#which is hilarious to me because you got someone who’s five seconds away from biting the other’s head off and the other who’s sick of their

[artihunter]

most cursed Rain World headcanon I have is that the Chieftan Scav is not a man so I can make toxic yuri jokes about the whole thing.

On a more serious note though I just like the idea of the chieftain being she/they because I am contrarian and it’d be cool imo. Also it mirrors my Artificer in a way with the themes.

[astaroth1357]

I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer 

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty… 

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression*  “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan 

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was  literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too… 

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit?? 

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat… 

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus 

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub 

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup…. 

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…) 

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor 

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!

[xshinigamikittenx]

The Quiet Game

NSFW Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

MINORS DNI

You swear this class is going to kill you. With this much of a class load, there’s no time for friendships or romantic relationships, and that’s fine with you. They were just distractions anyway. It’s usually just the attendants and other students completing work studies at the library this late. This is usually perfect on most nights, but today is Friday, and you forgot he would be here...

Thank you SO MUCH to TrashyBee on Twitter for bringing Katsuki to life here. Good lawd 😩

A/N: Whew. Yet another one shot that ran away with me. lmaoooo. Couldn't really help it though, I mean...sheeeeesh. But child, anywaaays...this was fun. :) I'm also hoping you've been to a library and seen what the private study rooms look like, because it's kindof important here 😅 but if not here's an idea. Hope your future library thoughts are full of smut productivity!

9.5k words

CW/TW: semi-public sex, oral sex, clothed sex, vaginal sex, biting, swallowing, light degradation, gagging, fingering, hair pulling, deep thrusts, praise

You swear this class is going to kill you. Why the fuck did you choose to take on so many credits this year? Take more classes at once so you can finish early. The goal from the beginning was to get through university as quickly as possible so you could start making the money you knew would help keep you far away from home. Wealth is not something that runs in your family. Everything you get, you work for, and your degree will be no different. You keep your head down, focusing on one goal, to make enough money to support yourself and live the way you want. With this much of a class load, there’s no time for friendships or romantic relationships, and that’s fine with you. They were just distractions anyway.

Your roommates, however, don’t have that same logic. Some nights when you’re up studying, you can hear them, and whoever they brought back to the dorm moaning, the bed sometimes rhythmically bumping into the paper-thin walls. “Just like that...yes-yes-mmmmore. Ffuck! ” It’s...distracting, to say the least, and frustrating because your body’s reaction constantly betrays your mind's focus. Your thighs clenching together, your pulse quickening; no way in hell you can study in your room, especially not at night.

You shake the thoughts out of your head, looking up at the massive main library, your feet unconsciously moving forward. This is your sanctuary, the place you feel you can be most at peace, and finally give way to the maintained focus you knew you needed. The warm glow of the lights through the windows always makes you feel calm. The cold air whips into you as you push open the door and take in the endless rows and layers of books keeping you company. There’s hardly ever anyone here at this time, a discovery you made one night when you found yourself packing your books in frustration to escape the sounds coming from the next room in the middle of the night.

It’s usually just the attendants and other students completing work studies at the library this semester. This is usually perfect on most nights, but today is Friday, and you forgot he would be here. Your eyes land on his back, surveying him at a distance. The fact that he works here doesn’t quite compute with you. He’s built like he should be throwing a ball somewhere, all broad shoulders and toned arms. The sleeves of his olive green sweater are rolled up, emphasizing the lines and ridges of his toned muscles. It’s borderline irritating how good he looks, entirely focused on a mundane task. His blonde hair is somehow perfectly dishevelled, the lean form of his body bent over the desk, filling out some kind of paperwork while you walk in his direction. Usually, you would try to avoid him; talking to people, in general, is not a specialty of yours, let alone talking to someone who seems to have a short fuse.

You wait for a few seconds, thinking he’s got to know you’re there. He had to have heard the door open, right? But he hasn’t turned around yet, and thinking about actually opening your mouth to speak to him felt like the air was getting sucked out of the building. You were already introverted with high anxiety, and you did not need to feel uncomfortable right now, especially under the looming stress of this project which was due in two days. So you waited, hoping the subtle noises you were making, readjusting your bag, and taking a deep breath, would possibly get his attention. Fuck, this is taking too long; I’ve got to say something. “Um...hey.” Jesus Christ, really couldn’t think of anything better to say? You practically sneer at yourself at how lame you sound, but this certainly got his attention. He turned half of his body towards you, one of his scarlet eyes glaring at you over his shoulder. His face was rather expressionless, betraying the scorching feeling his eyes deliver, making you suddenly self-conscious of what you looked like standing in front of him. You didn’t think about what you were wearing when you left your dorm, throwing on a go-to pair of leggings and the first hoodie you saw before storming out of the overly cramped room, leaving the heavy breaths and moans of your neighbour behind you.

“Oi, you need something? Speak up.” Your face immediately flushed. The heat rising up your neck and blooming across your face, triggering your palms to start sweating. You didn’t think you were unnecessarily quiet; it’s a fucking library. You knew he was an asshole, but what the fuck did you do to him? Before you think about it anymore, you shift your thoughts towards how to respond to him, coming up blank. You grip your bag tighter, your mind racking itself, but the anxiety has already caught hold of you, and it’s as if you're stranded on an island with no help in sight. So you resort to your usual defensive mechanism; you bite back.

“So, what...? You want me to scream to get your attention?” He turns his body toward you, putting the full picture of himself on display. You’ve never been this close to him, actively avoiding him after hearing him ream other students out for being too loud or misplacing books. You didn’t realize how intimidating his stature was until now, being less than six feet away from him.

He wasn’t excessively tall, but his posture would convince you otherwise. Even as he leaned back against the length of the desk behind him, he was still probably a handful of inches taller than you. He lifts his glasses to rest on the top of his almost unruly blonde hair as he speaks, “Can’t say why I would find screaming necessary in a library, but if you need something, you should say it clearly so I can help you and not have to spend five minutes of my time explaining common courtesy to someone who knows better.”

Your annoyance is suddenly replaced with rage at his words. What the fuck? Is he trying to put this on me? Doesn’t he fucking work here? Isn’t it his job to pay attention if someone needs help? You’re even more pissed because you wouldn’t have to deal with this shit if you could study in your room. The constant reminder of your roommate getting railed while you were trying to work made that impossible, so here you are. It’s not like you wanted to ask him for help, but you need access to a private study room, and you have to request it from the attendant. Except for tonight, when you’re pent up and stressed, you have to deal with him. “I wouldn’t have to speak up if you were doing your job, asshole.” Fuck. He’s distracting me. I don’t have time for this. You watch his face as one of his eyebrows lift while he places his large hands on the ledge of the desk behind him, baring the outline of his toned chest stretching the fabric of his sweater. “Now, I know you’re not that much of a dumbass. What do you think I was doing before you walked in here and started wasting my time?” Your eyes widen, inadvertently travelling the length of his body, from the smug ass expression resting on his face to his rippling arms, tense as his hands grip the dark wooden desk. For some reason, this annoyed you even more; why did he have to be insulting and infuriatingly attractive?

His lips curl into a smirk, revelling in the glare you’re aiming at him. Dumbass? Is this asshole for real? At this point, he’s pissed you off past the point of giving a fuck. You would’ve walked away by now if you didn’t actually need his help. But if he wants to play this game, fine. A smug smile spreads across your face as you speak, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was speaking to someone who was unable to multitask. Your life must be so hard, huh?” He drops his head, laughing as he pushes himself off the desk, taking a step toward you. Your hands grip your bag tighter as he comes closer, lifting his head so his ruby-coloured eyes meet yours. “That’s pretty fucking hilarious coming from someone who’s at the library in the middle of the night on a fuckin’ Friday.” He straightens up, shoving his hands in his pockets as he continues, “Seems more like your life is hard, and you’re just pissed off about it.” His gaze is piercing, attempting to slice through your facade of confidence, but you’re currently too livid to give a shit. You’re done talking to him, you just need to get into the study room and away from this asshole.

“No,” you seethe, “I’m pissed off because I can’t work in my room, I have shit to do, and this conversation is a waste of time.” You lift your head higher, meeting his gaze as he smirks down at you. “Oh, seems like I’m not the only one who can’t multitask then, huh?” He chuckles, watching you as you fold your arms and turn your head, breaking eye contact with him. “I just need one of the study rooms opened.”

“Oh, so you do need something,” he says, his voice dropping as he leans forward, bringing his face into your line of sight, his sharp features coming into focus. “You said it yourself, you wasted my time, so I think you can ask a little nicer than that.” You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to punch someone more than how much you want to punch his perfectly fucking chiselled jaw in that moment. Regardless of how much his face appeals to your more violent tendencies, you realize you don’t have an option. All of this bullshit will have been for nothing if you’re unable to get into that fucking room. Your jaw clenches, your teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek as your eyes bore into him. You make a point not to break eye contact when you speak through the smile you’ve painted on, “Oh, where are my manners...would you...please...open a study room so that I can get away from you?” You smile wider, contrasting the cold glare you shoot at him as he grins, watching your edges fray. He slides one of his hands out of his pocket, assessing you while he tosses the keys up in his hand, the dull metallic sound of their impact in the palm of his hand, peaking your annoyance further. “Well hell,” he says, “it’s about damn time.”

You roll your eyes as he catches the keys a final time, smirking at you before he turns to exit the enclosed space of the front desk. You readjust your bag and look up to follow him, balking at seeing him walk in front of you. He takes a few steps ahead of you, his coffee colored pants clinging to the muscles of his legs as he heads towards the back of the library where the study rooms are located. Fuck, his ass looks good. You’re grateful when you take a glance around you, suddenly conscious of what your borderline heated exchange probably looked like to anyone who could’ve seen it. Not to mention the fact that it probably definitely looked like you were staring at his ass just now. You refocus, remembering that you’re supposed to be following him. You train your eyes on the back of his neck, trying to keep yourself from fixating on his perfectly sculpted form; when you see him turn his head, eyeing you. His gaze travels up and down, then up to meet your eyes before he speaks, “For someone who claims to dislike wasted time, you sure are slow.”

Fuck. Did he catch me looking at him? Your chest tightens at the thought. Just hurry the fuck up and get to the room so you can do what you came here for. You signal your legs to pick up the pace until you’re almost in stride with him and looking straight ahead. You know where the study rooms are; you just need him to open it for you, but why does it feel like it’s taking forever to get there? Your body grows warmer, anxiety still pumping through you from your previous conversation. Now being alone in this giant space in silence is adding emphasis to the fact that you’re practically alone. You try to distract yourself, feigning interest in the books that line the shelves as you walk past them. We’ve got to be close now; just focus on the room. You look ahead, expecting to see the study rooms’ glass windows but instead are met with more shelves of books. What the fuck? Did they move them? How long have we been walking? You glance over at him, accidentally making eye contact because he was already looking at you.

Without thinking, you look away, and then you hear him speak, “Ya know, no ones usually here at this time on a Friday. Don’t you have better shit to do?” Seriously? If he’s going to be a dick, why is he even wasting his breath talking to me?

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t,” you bite back, too tangled up in your own thoughts to decipher anything less aggressive, “and I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want me to be here.”

He continues walking, and you push ahead of him, attempting to put some distance between you. You don’t need him to lead you to the room; the library is only so big. Getting there on your own and waiting for him to open it would be better than dealing with this bullshit. You see him looking over at you in your peripheral vision as you pass him, and he laughs. “You don’t wanna be here, but all of a sudden, you’re in a hurry. A little conflicting, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes. Fuck off. Is what you would’ve said if you wanted to continue this conversation. He would definitely have something to say to that. “Are you forgetting that I’ve got what you want?” You stop dead in your tracks and spin on your heels to face him, “Excuse me?” He doesn’t even flinch at your raised tone, you could practically hear your own voice echoing around you as he walks up to you, stopping inches away. He’s so close you can smell him, a warm scent of amber and oak catching you off guard as you hold your ground. His lips lilt into a mocking half-smile as he moves his hand towards you to dangle the keys directly in front of your face. “What? You want to get into the room, don’t you?” Your focus shifts from the keys to his crimson eyes, blurring everything else around you as your body reacts to the heat radiating off of his skin. He feels...warm. I wonder - Your gaze drops to his lips, maddeningly curled into a taunting smirk. “Well, now I’m wondering what you thought I was talking about.”

He pulls the keys into the palm of his hand with a metallic snap, the sound almost making you jump as your eyes widen. You find yourself holding your breath as the tightening in your chest climbs up to your throat. Say something. Fucking anything. Your face must tell him everything he needs to know, because he doesn’t wait for a response. “How’s this, I’ll let you off the hook if you tell me why you’re here, dealing with my bullshit, when you could be studying in your dorm.”

This is none of his fucking business, but it’s easier to answer than the previous question, so fuck it. “I can’t focus there.” He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly not satisfied with your answer. You roll your eyes and sigh, “It’s just...noisy. I can’t think straight.”

He laughs at your response, “Yeah I can see that you're easily distracted.” You feel his eyes hovering over your body before meeting your gaze and shifting his weight to start walking again. You take a deep breath, silently relieved that whatever the fuck that was is over. “There’s this invention,” he says as he walks ahead of you “called headphones, ever thought of using those?” You shoot daggers into the back of his head as he turns the corner and you see the study rooms up ahead. Thank fucking god. He sifts through the keys as he walks, locating the one he needed to open the door. His hands move to slide the key into the lock, “Tch. Unless you’ve got roommates that are loud when they fuck. Headphones might not help much.” You know this is a joke but the heat spreading through your face, and the way your body tenses up catches his attention. “Did I strike a nerve,” he asks, smirking at you as his hand grips the door handle.

“Just open the door.” He raises an eyebrow and you release an exasperated sigh, “Please.”

He swings the door open, holding it open as he waits for you to walk through. Finally. I can get this asshole out of my face and work. You walk towards the door, and you notice he isn’t moving. I can hold the door on my own. Why is he still standing there? As you move you eye the entrance to the room, realizing you’re going to need to get insanely close to him to get through the doorway. Fuck it. Just slip by him and move on. “Listen, I don’t bite,” he says, noticing your moment of hesitation with a sly smile. You roll your eyes, making a point to look him in the eyes as you attempt to get by him. His piercing gaze slices through you, stoking the flames within your core you’ve been harnessing all night; fuck, maybe all semester. You fail to keep the flush from blooming across your face, turning your head away from him as you attempt to brush past him. You can feel him watching you, it feels like heat is emanating from his skin, pulling you closer as you hear a low voice directly in your ear, “Unless you want me to.”

What? It was a split second that you were close enough to hear him. Your breath catches as you finally make it past him, his words echoing in your head. Did he just-? You turn around to face him, “What did you just s-“ but he was already leaving, walking back towards the front of the library, probably to finish working on whatever the hell had him so focused when you arrived earlier.

You turn away, your back towards the floor to ceiling window of the small room as your mind reels from the last thing he said to you. I swear I heard him correctly. But why would he say that? Am I fucking crazy? You mindlessly unpack what you need out of your bag and sit at the desk, trying and failing miserably for almost an hour to focus on your work. You find yourself repeatedly scanning the same page because you can’t stop yourself from looking over your shoulder to see if he’s nearby. You nibble at the tip of your pen, looking at the book in front of you and unable to comprehend a single thing. Your oral fixation is running rampant and your thoughts are nowhere near where they should be when the image of his lips slip into your head. What do they taste like? Your body reacts to the thought, squeezing your thighs together as your core tightens imagining his hands gripping your skin, his teeth sinking into you. Fuck. Fuck!

You turn your head again, wondering if there was any way he would be looking in your direction; his thoughts riddled with the same infuriatingly erotic images on a loop in your head. Then, you see him. His back towards you as he holds a stack of books in one arm to place on the shelves. Your eyes travel down the length of his body, the lines of muscle subtly evident through his clothes. You watch him as he reaches up to a particularly high shelf, and his sweater lifts just enough to see the definition of his lower back. Heat is building inside you, the stirring in your core causing your walls to clench, thinking about raking your nails across his back. Ffuuck...NO. Get your fucking shit together. Why would he want to fuck someone who has nothing better to do than study on a Friday night? Fucking focus. You try to gather your thoughts, but must’ve mistakenly zoned out while you were looking at him, because as soon as your eyes refocus you see his head turned in your direction, one cinder red eye smoldering into you.

Fuck! Your body stiffens, unsure what else to do besides just go back to pretending you were working on this project. That’s basically what you’ve been doing since you sat down anyways. And for what? Just for you to embarrass and distract yourself just enough for this entire ordeal to be a colossal waste of time.You start to gather your things, applying more force than necessary to shove everything back into your bag. Fuck this. I haven’t gotten anything done and it’s been two fucking hours. I should’ve just stayed in my room, used my vibrator and moved on. At least I would’ve been able to think straight.

“You must do that often, huh?”

Your eyes widen and you immediately turn your body towards the source of the voice coming from the doorway. Your eyes land on his waist, then to the large hands in his pockets as he seems to take up all the remaining space in the room. You catch a glimpse of the student ID on the lanyard threaded through his belt loop. Katsuki Bakugo. You didn’t even bother to check the picture before you looked up, eyes connecting with the same asshole smirk you’ve been replaying in your head since you sat down. I didn’t say all of that shit out loud did I?

“What are you talking about,” you snap. You really don’t feel like playing this game with him. You already made up your mind that you were leaving, there was no way in hell you were going to stick around to get made fun of. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Ha. That’s a good question,” he takes a step, crossing the length of the room to lean against the desk inches away from you. “I have a better question though. How long have you been watching me instead of working?”

It feels like your brain short circuits. Did he catch me looking for him earlier? Fuck!

“I-” it suddenly dawns on you that the only way he would’ve seen that is if he was looking at you. You just didn’t see him.

You smile up at him, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair. “The only way you could even think that, is if you were watching me. So you tell me, Katsuki, how long was it?”

He grins as he places his hands on the edge of the desk on either side of him and leans down towards you, his face inches away from yours. His eyes hold your gaze, his crimson eyes blazing like an unhinged wildfire as he speaks, “See, it’s my job to watch you. I work here, dumbass,” he says, his eyes dropping down to your chest as you cross your arms even tighter. God, I’m such an idiot. Of course he’s watching me because he has to. What the fuck was I thinking? Further embarrassment creeps across your face at the thought of even considering that he wanted you. Then, he leans in closer, the sound of his voice a warm whisper against your ear as he speaks, “What’s your excuse?”

You almost stop breathing. Your thoughts frantically trying to come up with something; anything that wasn’t the truth. You come up blank, your expression must’ve given him the answer he was looking for, because he laughs. He laughs in your face, and as much as you want to be completely pissed off, you’re distracted by the glint of the piercing poised in the center of his tongue. Fuck.

Subduing his laughter he sits up just enough to look down at you, raising an eyebrow as he smirks, “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? That I was watching you because I wanted to?” You glare at him, the all consuming mixture of rage and embarrassment spreading through you as your face flushes. Your nails are digging into your arms so hard that you can feel it through your sweatshirt. You can’t think of a single thing to say, but your mouth moves without thinking.

Your eyes connect, and you spit out exactly what your mind is silently screaming, “Fuck off.” You make sure you don’t look away, pointedly challenging him to say anything remotely clever in response. The grin spreading across his face is the first sign that you’ve lost that challenge.

“Pretty nasty mouth for someone who’s in the library more often than her own room.”

You flare up, everything you’ve been holding in boiling over as you bite back at him, “You don’t know shit about me,” your voice is tight, and growing louder as you let the words spill out of your mouth, “I’m here all the fucking time because I can’t deal with the fact that I have to watch everyone around me have a life while I bury myself in school. I don’t have friends or shit else to do because I don’t have fucking time. I just want to get through this hell so I can finally just do what I want! So could you, please, get the fuck out of my face so I can go.”

“The door’s right there, you could’ve left a long time ago, but here we are,” he says, his smirk dripping with sarcasm.

I’m so fucking done with this shit. You move to get up, grabbing your bag off of the desk as you turn towards the door. Your hand is reaching for the doorknob when you hear his voice again.

“Did you not hear me?”

“Loud and fucking clear. I’m leaving aren’t I?”

“For someone who’s so fucking smart you really are a dumbass,” he says, standing as he takes a step towards you.

Why haven’t you left yet? Why haven’t you opened the door and - It hits you. You replay his words in your mind, picking up on something you were too pissed off to realize until this moment.

You turn around to face him, and you’re eye level with his shoulders, inches away from you. The warm amber scent of him enveloping you as your gaze travels up his neck to the angle of his jaw, finally making eye contact as you speak, “How would you know I’m here more often than my own room?”

“Tch. Like I said before, I work here,” he says, before moving closer, the heat of his breath brushing against your face as he continues, “but I’ll admit getting to see you makes my job less shitty.”

Your chest tightens, the fluttering in your core enough to make your pulse quicken as your lips part slightly.

He’s watching your face, smirking as your body tenses up when he closes the space between you. “But if you really want to leave...” he whispers against your skin, careful not to touch you as you look up at him with pleading eyes. He brings his lips a breadth away from yours, dropping his gaze to your mouth. “I’m going to fuck you on the desk.” he says, his hands still in his pockets as his words melt into you, “If you don’t want me to, tell me right fucking now.”

He’s so close to you, all you had to do was tilt your head up just a little more and your lips would touch. The thought invaded your mind, your breath catching in your throat as your body reacted to his words, tightening your core to the point of aching. You lift your eyes to meet the heat of gaze as you speak, “Do it, then-“

“Fucking finally,” he growls, his voice raspy and low as he makes contact, his lips moving against yours as the palms of his hands travel up to your face. They slide into your hair at the nape of your neck, collecting it in his fist, while the other hand grips your hips. He pulls you into him, moving you against the wall adjacent to the door. Your back meets the wall, the impact strong enough to make sound and your mind is blank. The feeling of his hands, his lips, his body pressed against yours, overwhelming your senses as you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater. His kiss is hungry and breathless, low groans vibrating against your lips as his pierced tongue slips between them, tasting the heat of your wet mouth.

You whimper into him, your body on fire from the inside out as the thin thread of self control you have left is priming to snap. His lips curl up into a smirk at the sounds lilting out of you and a growl ripples through him as he bites your bottom lip hard enough for you to open your eyes. He releases you, his breaths heavy as he presses his forehead against yours. His scarlet irises bore into you as he speaks, “We’re going to have to do something about all that fucking noise you’re making,” he smirks, his eyes traveling from your swollen lips to your legs, taking note of how tightly you’re clenching your thighs together. “You’re a mess already aren’t you?” His breathy laugh brushes against your face as he pulls away hooking his index fingers into the waistband of your leggings and tugging just enough for them to snap back once he releases.

A soft gasp escapes your lips at the impact against your sensitive skin, the heat pooling between your thighs as your insides clench. Your body is screaming, begging for him to touch you and your mouth moves on its own. “Please,” you whisper up at him, your hands finding the hem of his sweater as you spread your fingers against his skin, feeling every ridge of hardened muscle beneath it.

He drops his gaze down to your hands as your fingertips explore the surface of his skin. A low rumble vibrates through his chest, as his eyes sear into you, “Don’t forget, you fucking asked for this.” His hands move, pulling your sweatshirt over your head and dropping it onto the floor before he leans into you, pushing his leg between your thighs while he holds both your wrists in one hand above your head against the wall. His other hand grips your hip, his fingertips digging into your skin as his lips meets your neck.

You start to move against him, trying to get a taste of the friction your body is aching for while he teases your neck with open mouth kisses. His breath is hot against your skin, teeth sinking into you, as low groans escape his lips. He feels so fucking good and you haven’t been fucked in so long you might cum before he even gets to feel how wet you are. His lips move up to your ear, his voice low as his breath caresses your skin, “You’re riding my thigh like it’s something else, baby girl.” The hand gripping your hip slides under your shirt as he speaks, palming your breast while he kisses the space behind your ear. His teeth graze against your skin as a rippling growl erupts from him, pulling a whimper from your lips while your pussy grinds against his thigh.

You can feel the length of his hardening cock against your leg as you press yourself against him. He pinches your nipple, igniting every nerve in your body as he grins against your skin, feeling your body bend for him. A gasping moan escapes your lips, the sound filling the space around you as your head drops back against the wall. He pulls his head back just enough to watch your reaction; your eyes squeezed shut as your whines spill from your open mouth. “I can feel your pussy clenching for me, y/n,” he says, his lips trailing down your exposed neck as his hand moves to your other hardened nipple. The pressure he applies is sharp and delicious causing every muscle in your body to tighten, your panting breaths mingling with his hums of satisfaction as he feels you on the edge of unraveling at his touch.

“Fuck...ha...hahh...Katsuki...” You’re on your tiptoes relishing in the feeling of his teasing fingers as your insides coil imagining the feeling of him stretching you out. He grinds against you, his arousal pressing against your leg as your nails dig into the palms of your hands. “Mmm, You’re so fucking sexy, so desperate for this fucking cock aren’t you?”

Your lips are moving before you think, your mind consumed with the heat swelling inside you, “Yes...yes...please.” You lean forward in an attempt to meet his lips but he pulls away, releasing your hands as he moves to grip your hips. You let out a small yelp when he picks you up under your ass, and turns to put you on top of the desk. His hands slide down to the crook of your legs as he stands between them, eyeing you beneath his lashes when he speaks, “Pull them down.” You lean back, searching his face as you try to collect your thoughts. You must’ve taken longer than he wanted because he leans in, placing his hand on the wall behind you as his crimson eyes burn into yours, “You’re taking your sweet fucking time, and you’re already soaked down here?”

His fingers move to your warm center, feeling your arousal soaking through your leggings as he presses circles against your aching clit. Your legs involuntarily squeeze around his hips as his hand drops from the wall to grip a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back to make you look at his face as his voice drops, “Spread...your fucking...legs.” Your pulse quickens, your blood heating up as he slows the pace of the pressure he’s circling around your clit and you whimper up at him, giving into the ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.

You want more, you lean back on your hands, hips moving to the rhythm his fingers play against your drenched core as your pleading eyes meet his gaze. You’re in a fucking library, in a room with a huge ass window. But the thought of someone seeing you makes your pulse speed up, sending a heightened thrum of pleasure streaming through you, “Hnnngh...ffuckk…” your hips move faster, cloying for more pressure, more friction, more feeling. Katsuki notices your body’s reaction, tightening his hold on your hair, causing your eyes to squeeze shut from the slight prickle of pain. “You wanna cum so fucking bad don’t you? That pussy of yours is begging for this fucking cock.” All you can do is pant in response, your eyes opening to see his face, smirking down at you as his fingers push harder, “Show me, show me how much you want it so I can see that dripping pussy.”

A breathy moan slips out of your throat as you sit up to push the fabric of your leggings down to your ankles. Katsuki releases his hold on your hair, watching your every movement as his gaze drops down to the essence glistening against your swollen lips. You hear his sharp intake of breath, the air hissing between his teeth as his eyes hungrily take you in before he meets your gaze again. His hooded eyes are a shadowed crimson, the heat rising up to your cheeks as you squirm beneath him.

One of his hands moves to grip the top of your thigh, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin as he slips two fingers from his other hand into his mouth. Your pussy tightens, watching him give his fingers a gentle suck as his gaze locks onto yours. The image is lethal, your breath catching at the sight of his wet fingers sliding past his lips and dropping to your aching pussy to tease your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet baby,” he hisses between his teeth, as he pinches your clit, the pressure enough to pull a gasping moan from your throat.

Your eyes flutter closed as you stifle a moan and lean your head back against the wall. His fingers maddeningly toy with you as you hear him unbuckle his belt. Sheer curiosity makes your eyelids hover open as you look down, taking in the size of him, his hand wrapping around his thick shaft and gliding over the prominent veins to his cherried swollen tip, dripping pre. You want to taste him so badly, your mouth begins to water and all you can think about is feeling his throbbing cock inside you. You don’t give a fuck if it barely fits. Your pussy clenches at the thought, wordlessly begging to be stuffed to the brim.

A low growl ripples through his chest, “I don’t even have to look at your face to know your pussy’s begging for this cock.” He thumbs the throbbing head of his dick, swirling the pre around his tip while his eyes bore into you. You couldn’t look away from his gaze if you wanted to, even as his fingers leave your aching core to pull you down with a rough tug at the crook of your legs, forcing your ass to the edge of the desk. He leans over your body, bringing his face inches away from yours, sliding a pre soaked thumb into your awaiting mouth flattening your tongue against his calloused finger. You wrap your lips around it, gently sucking and swirling your tongue, tasting his arousal for the first time.

A low moan rises from your throat, vibrating around him as you watch his eyes darken. He presses down against your tongue, forcing your mouth open as he growls, “Mmm you’re a naughty little slut aren't you...” His words send your insides fluttering, your hands balling into fists as your muscles tighten, your walls clamping around nothing but air as you pout. You don’t give a fuck anymore. Someone could stand directly in front of that massive fucking window and record the whole fucking thing. It doesn’t matter. You want him, right fucking now. You roll your hips, grinding your wet pussy against his hard cock. His dick twitches in response grinding through your slit and hitting your clit sending a simpering moan spilling from your open mouth.

You feel him press harder against your tongue and his voice drops, “Such a fucking tease,” he slides his length through your swollen lips, his heat seeping into you as he whispers, “You want this fucking cock? Let’s see how quiet you can be and maybe, I’ll let you cum.” He releases your tongue, slipping his hand under your shirt to swirl his slick fingers around your nipple. You bite your lip, attempting to silence the whimpers rising from your throat as your back arches at his touch, your hands craving to touch him. You reach up, sliding your hands under the fabric of his sweater as you drag your nails down his back. A guttural growl emanates from his chest as he ruts against you, every ridge of his thick cock sliding into your clit.

You can feel yourself melting beneath his hands, his fingers tugging at your nipples as his body moves down leaving soft bites and licks in his wake. The heat of his breath and the cool kiss of the metal stud in his tongue meets your dripping center and it’s enough to send goosebumps flooding across your skin. In one swift motion he’s on his knees between your legs, the back of your thighs resting on his shoulders and his hands gripping you to pull your plush wet lips closer to his smirking mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m not going to be able to- “Shhhh,” you watch his lips as he smiles, looking directly at you. You swallow the moan threatening to escape your lips but your shallow breaths are giving you away, he fucking knows I won’t be able to take this...

Then, he’s inhaling you, his tongue slipping into your clenching pussy, licking from your entrance to your clit while he looks directly into your eyes as he pulls away, “Fuck. You taste so fucking good.” His voice is heated and low, the evidence of your arousal glistening on his lips as he speaks. The image sends your insides fluttering, your muscles tensing down to your toes as your legs attempt to constrict around him. You’re squirming already but he’s got you pinned, wide open and spread out, at the mercy of his vicious fucking mouth.

He doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath before he’s latching onto you, his hot wet tongue delving into your silky walls as his piercing vibrates against you with even the slightest groan. You gasp for air, eyes squeezed shut, fingers intertwined in his hair you grind into him, completely blissed out and swimming in the waves of pleasure ebbing through you with every flick and suck. You���re a fucking mess, trying to maintain some modicum of control as he mercilessly swirls his tongue around your pulsing clit. His teeth nestle around it, gently rolling your bundle of nerves between them as he flicks his piercing against you, pulling a low groan from the depths of your core.

He growls, licking your pussy from your clenching entrance to your base of your clit before he looks up at you, “How am I gonna fuck you if you can’t keep quiet with just my fucking tongue, hmm?” The loss of pressure makes you whine, you’re so fucking close. He smirks at you, one of his hands releases your thigh, dropping down to push two of his thick fingers into your warm weeping center. His eyes follow his movements, watching as you take him in, curling his fingers to brush against your most sensitive spot as he slides in and out of you. It’s too much, but you choke down the sobbing whimper cloying in your throat. Your legs shake, breasts heaving as your panting breaths quicken with every thrust of his fingers. You’re biting your lip so hard to keep quiet you might draw blood, but you lean back, putting your weight on your hands to lift your hips and roll into him, letting his long fingers push deeper inside you.

You clamp down around him, your body begging for more; more feeling, more friction, more pressure, you want every little piece of it. You’re at the edge of your control, your mouth falling open in a silent moan as your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back. You can feel him watching you, humming his approval as his other hand releases your leg, “Mmmm, such a good fucking girl with this greedy fucking pussy. You wanna cum for me don’t you...?”

“Yes-yess, pleeease...haah-fuck, FUCK.”

He breathes a soft laugh over your sopping pussy before he devours your soft lips hungrily, lapping up your slit as the rhythm of his fingers speed up.

“Hnnngh...hah-haah, please-fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He’s drowning you, your senses overflowing with the feeling of heat through your body, pushing you to the brink of release. Your pussy clenches around him, his tongue sending sparks through every nerve, punishing you with his thrumming piercing as he moves to sit up on his knees, pushing further into you. He knows you’re close; his hand slides up your body, his nails dragging across your skin until he reaches your lips, sliding two of his fingers into your panting mouth.

He moans into you, making his piercing vibrate faster. Your mouth waters as you wrap your tongue around his fingers, nibbling and sucking on them. You’re a mess, unable to conjure anything except slurred muffled groans around his thick fingers. His lips pull away just enough for you to feel him growl at you.

“Cum for me, right fucking now.”

Fuck...fuckfuckfuck! Your body reacts to his words, wrapping both hands around his arm, digging your nails into his skin as your climax crashes into you. You’re struggling for air but you don’t need it, the blinding light behind your eyelids rippling with the waves of pleasure imploding from your core. He doesn’t stop, his fingers milking your insides, extending your orgasm for everything you’ve got until he slips them out of you, only to delve into your tightening entrance with his tongue, lapping up every drop of your cum.

“So fucking sweet,” he breathes, slipping his fingers out of your mouth, using both of his hands to push the back of your thighs up, inhaling everything you have left as the last tremors spiral out of your body. Eyes closed, floating in the afterglow of your release, you feel him pull your legs back down as he stands in one swift motion. He grips the top of your thighs, roughly tugging you down until your throbbing core kisses the ridges of his dick. Your eyes snap open. Fuck, he’s fucking huge.

Your expression must’ve voiced your thoughts because he expels are a breathy laugh, “You feel that don’t you, how fucking hard I am from tasting your perfect fucking pussy.” His cock twitches against you and your hips roll into him as you moan, gripping the edge of the desk with both hands as you look up at him. Your legs wrap around his waist, tightening from the flush of heat emanating from your core. You want him inside you, to feel the mind numbing combination of pleasure and pain as he stretches you out.

Your voice is a whimper, “Katsuki….please.” You continue to grind against him, your arousal and his dripping pre making you slick and hot. A guttural growl rips through his chest as he leans over you, the palm of his hand slamming on the wall as he brings his lips to your ear. Your body stills, your breaths coming in shallow pants as his muscle toned body presses against you, “Please, what? Tell me what you want, y/n.”

His tongue flicks at your neck, making your words come out in gasps, “Fuck...fuck me...please, please…” Your hands glide beneath the fabric of his sweater, splaying out to pull him closer into you while your nails dig into him. Your back bows off the surface of the desk, tightening your legs around him trying to gain more friction to appease your swollen clit.

“Be a good girl,” he breathes into your ear, “ and control that pretty mouth of yours or I’ll have to do it for you.”

You bite your lip, your need for him coiling inside you as you feel him push himself up far enough for you to feel him hovering over you. Your eyes meet and his hand moves to position himself into you. The head of his cock presses against your soaking entrance, slowly slipping into you as you fight the low moan rising from your throat. He hisses between his teeth as he watches you, “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Both of his hands press into the desk, his arms caging you in, as he looks between your bodies, watching himself ease into you inch by inch. He’s already stretching you out, your velvet walls clenching around him as his wet cock slides inside of your clenching pussy. The muscles in his arms tighten, his body tensing as he begins to move his hips, pushing further into you.

“You’re clamping down on me and I’m not even all the way in yet,” he smirks at you, watching your face flush as your pulse quickens. Fuck...he’s going to fucking break me. But you’re too far gone, you want him, and your body speaks for you, lifting your hips as your nails claw into his back. A growl rips through his chest as his head dips, bringing his forehead to yours, “You want it? Okay then…”

Before you’re able to take another breath, he snaps his hips, pulling a yelp from your mouth when he bottoms out inside you. “Fffuck, you feel so fucking good.” You’re whining, struggling to accommodate his size but relishing in the mind numbing feeling of fullness your pussy was already becoming addicted to. “Not so cocky once that pretty little cunt is fucking full, huh?”

The only response you can offer is a whimper as he starts to move. He rotates his hips, grinding deeper into you, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix. You turn your head, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to stifle the sounds rising from your throat. Your open mouth meets his arm and your teeth sink into him as he pulls out just enough to slam back into you hitting your limit. It takes everything in you not to cry out, but the pain is dulled by the overwhelming feeling of pleasure each deep powerful thrust rains down on you.

“Haah-hah, fuck baby, you’re taking me so well.” His movements find a rhythm, rolling his hips again and again filling you to the brim with every snap. The curve of his cock pushes his tip against your most sensitive spot, stirring your insides, making your body temperature rise with every panting breath. The feeling is intoxicating, drunk on the way your bodies move together, every nerve firing, desperate to drink him in more. You roll your hips, taking the full impact of every merciless thrust, your breath hitching as you choke back a sob. Your nails drag across the span of his back as you hear him hiss through his teeth. His muscles tense, back arching as a growl vibrates through his body. “Ah- FUCK. Ooooh, you want it don’t you. Yeah? You want it?”

“Katsuki, please, I want- I want more.” You’re a sputtering mess, your walls fluttering around his hard cock as he pushes off the desk, gripping your thighs in both of his massive hands. He pulls you further down bringing your ass off the edge of the desk. Your body is completely at his mercy as he pushes deeper into you, his fingertips digging into your skin as his pace speeds up. You don’t have time to adjust to his movements, he drives into you, snapping his hips, impaling you over and over.

“Ahh-ah-fffucckk,” you moan, failing miserably at staying quiet, it’s fucking impossible. It feels too good, you’re too full, overflowing with the sensations pulsing through your body. You grab onto the edge of the desk, fingers gripping the wood as his heavy sack smacks against your ass. “Mmmm,” he growls, What? Can't fucking take it? Fuck- cant control that slutty fucking mouth can you? Pussy drooling all over my fucking cock.” He lifts your shirt with one hand pulling it up to your open mouth and you immediately bite down, the fabric doing everything it can to muffle your stuttering moans.

“That’s right. Such a good fucking girl,” his fingers trail down your body, groping your breasts, pinching your nipples as every ridge of his cock fills all the space you have inside you. “Fuck- your so fucking sexy baby- you wanna cum don’t you...keep biting down on that fucking shirt.” You’re so close, so fucking close, the coil in your core threatening to snap. He feels you clamp down on him, moving one hand to press down on your stomach and the other to your throbbing clit.

The pressure pushes your spot against his dick, his punishing thrusts slamming into it every time as he rubs maddening circles around your clit. “Hnnnnf-hnnnngh!” Your shirt muffles your sobs as you squeeze your eyes closed, the tears prickling at the corners as your back arches, your head thrown back as far as it can go. “Fuck yes- cum on this cock baby...cum for me.”

His words are your undoing, any ounce of control you have left exploding into the myriad of colors flashing behind your eyes. The thin thread at the base of your spine snaps, catapulting you into the stratosphere, overheating and gasping for air. The feeling saturates you, expelling any and every thought your mind could attempt to conjure. You squeeze your legs around him, every muscle in your body tightening as your pussy clamps down on his throbbing dick.

“Fuck- FUCK-mmmm, get ready to swallow every drop of this fucking cum baby.” His voice washes over you, the waves of your orgasm still rippling through your body as you feel him slide out of you. He hooks a finger in the neckline of your shirt, pulling you to sit up as he steps back between your legs. Your eyes land on his straining cock, slick from your arousal and the dripping pre his hand is fisting up and down his shaft. “Open...your fucking…mouth.”

You want to taste him, your mouth waters watching his cock twitch in his hands. Your body is so fucking spent, your legs would give out if you tried getting on your knees. You push your ass back, hinging at the hips and leaning forward, looking up at him through your lashes as you hold your tongue out of your open mouth for him. “Ughggh, fuck,” he groans, watching you as the heat from your breath caresses his dick.

His hand moves faster, his breath catching as his muscles tense. “Fuck-FUCK- you’re so fucking sexy baby, you’re gonna take all this fucking cum aren’t you...yeah? Show me...wrap those lips around my dick baby.” Your insides flutter as you swirl your tongue around the swollen pink head of his cock, tasting the mixture of his pre and your arousal. You inhale the intoxicating scent of him before hollowing your cheeks and taking in as much of him as you can. “Hah-haah, just like that baby-FUCK.” He moves his hand from the base of his dick to the back of your head, your eyes widening as he starts to thrust into your mouth.

His other hand rests under your throat, holding you still while he face fucks you. A low moan rises in your throat, vibrating around his cock as his uneven breaths melt into groans and hisses. “So fucking perfect,” he’s panting, his voice raspy and rumbling, “Taste your slutty fucking pussy on my cock baby?- haah-hah- all this cum I’m gonna shoot down your throat’s cus’ve you.” He’s thrusting harder, his pace speeding up as he stretches you out, hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, your saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as tears begin to fall, “Choke on that cock baby, that’s right- take - all of it- fuck, Fuck-FUCK!”

The hand on the back of your head fists your hair as he throws his head back, all of his muscles tensing up as he bucks into your mouth spraying hot thick ropes of cum down your throat. You swallow every drop of him, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths as he slides his dick out of your mouth and pulls your hair, making you sit up. His lips crash into yours, his tongue lapping into your mouth, tasting the remains of your combined arousal. He releases the grip on your hair, bringing his hand down to your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he pulls you in further, sighing into you before he pulls away.

You look up, your gaze meeting the smirk on his face before noticing the smug fucking look in his eyes. You roll your eyes, curling your lips into a grin, “What’s that look for?”

“You had a hard time staying quiet in public,” he says, smiling mischievously at you. “I’m wondering what you’d sound like if I fucked you somewhere else.”

Your eyes narrow. How is he still such a sexy fucking asshole. “I wouldn’t mind testing that theory,” you say, smirking as you lean in, looking up at him, legs dangling off the desk.

"Tch," Katsuki eyes you, his scarlet eyes scanning your body as he steps out from between your legs, pulling his pants up and buckling his belt. He looks over at you, "Then, I don’t know what you’re still sitting there for. I’ve gotta clean up the mess you made.”

You grin at him, the irony of him fucking you until your neighbors can hear you screaming almost makes you laugh, pushing the thought of your class project completely out of your mind.

Tags: @sweet-darling91 @aztecbrujeria @tarot-milktea I love you guys 💜 If anyone else wants to be tagged lmk :)

[princecharmingwinks]

Sterek Fic Rec - February 2021. Ah the month of love! And what better way to spend the second month of the year than to read about our two adorable dorks. Enjoy another list of fanfiction recommendations!

It's A Love Story, Baby, Just Say Yes by fairytalesandfolklore (1/1 | 1,825 | Teen)

For a while, there's a whole lot of nothing, just the sound of water splashing against tile, the scent of Stiles's Old Spice body wash wafting in the summer air, and— Wait. Is that…is Stiles singing Taylor Swift? Derek tilts his head to the side, catching sight of what is unmistakably Stiles's silhouette framed in the open window, towel wrapped around his waist, using a hairbrush as a makeshift microphone and belting out what Derek is 99% sure is the song Love Story by Taylor Swift.

Derek Hale Is Not Romantic by ash_mcj (1/1 | 3,507 | Teen)

Derek Hale is not romantic. He’s not. Sure, he cares about Stiles...he guesses he has changed a little as a side effect of dating the guy. But he has not become, and will never become, one of those stupid romantic boyfriends.

[or: Derek (and his pack) realize that he has totally become a hopelessly romantic boyfriend]

(For~ Sterek Valentine Week 2021; Day 1: Hopeless Romantic)

I Know You by sparkandwolf (thatnerdemilyj) (1/1 | 1,733 | General)

“I thought I’d find you here,” Derek said, placing a gentle kiss on Stiles’ temple. He could barely feel Derek’s lips through the thick hair he had let grow during his senior year. He was never expecting to rid himself of his signature buzz cut, but it wasn’t exactly a priority when battling the danger they so often faced.

“Am I that obvious?” Stiles asked.

“To me,” Derek said simply, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder.

Shirt Thief by allourheroes (1/1 | 4,113 | General)

Derek's wardrobe has changed...which wouldn't be such a big deal if he wasn't wearing Stiles's shirt. What the hell?

In which Derek is a thief, witches are basically unimportant background characters, and Malia is the only one who understands what's up.

i got you on my mind by nicotinedaydream (1/1 | 1,263 | Teen)

"Are you Stiles?"

Stiles groans. He admits it is fairly immature, but fuck it. He hates his life right now. He wishes everyone would just go away.

"No. I'm not. I'm 'Leave Me Alone'," he gripes, pulling at his hair aggressively. He hears the person snort. He looks up, nostrils flaring. "Seriously, dude. Leave me the fuck alo—"

His brain just—stops. Warranted, it never does that. But this stranger is beyond-this-universe level of hot.

Dark black hair, light yet murky grey-green-brown-blue (what the fuck???) eyes, jawline that could give him a paper cut if he touched it, and bulging arm muscles under the tight-knitted maroon sweater the guy is wearing.

He coughs, swallows, tries to not make a fool of himself. "Actually, yes. I am Stiles. How may I service you—fuck! I mean, how may I be of service?" He face-palms. Epic. Fail.

Happy Birthday To Me by clottedcreamfudge (1/1 | 10,819 | Mature)

"Hi there, and welcome to Full Moon Jewellery. Thanks for browsing! I’m a designer based in California whose only dream in life is to get through art school without having to sell off my organs - which, by the way, is still on the table. You need a kidney? Let me know in your personalisation request, and I’m sure we can work something out. Guy’s gotta have that dollar to buy curly fries."

It's Laura's 30th birthday and Derek sucks at buying gifts. Then he stumbles across 'Full Moon Jewellery', an Etsy store run by an art student who has strange ideas about nutrition, and whose enthusiasm for his new commission is actually kind of adorable.

In which the whole pack wants Derek to get a life, and Derek just wants some peace.

(But not really)

If The World Was Ending by spaceprincessem (1/1 | 2,315 | General)

Derek swallowed the lump in his throat. “If the world was ending,” he started, eyes fluttering open to meet Stiles’ doe brown ones, “I would find you and tell you-”

He broke off, biting down on his tongue hard. He felt Stiles’ fingers trace over cheeks, thumb brushing softly against his bottom lip.

“And if the world wasn’t ending?” Stiles asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Give you that thing you can't even imagine by LunaCanisLupus_22 (1/1 | 10,999 | Explicit)

The omegas came out onto the stage next, and Derek did his best to smile and shake hands with enough polite distance as possible, to avoid giving the impressionable ones ideas.

Or the one where mateless Derek thinks no omega can affect him like they do other alphas and he's about to find out he's very, very wrong.

the other shoe by stilinskisparkles (1/1 | 4,633 | Teen)

They’re lounging on Derek’s bed one afternoon, Stiles halfheartedly trying to make headway on an essay, and Derek’s supposedly helping. Instead, Derek’s spent the last eight minutes mouthing lazily at Stiles’ shoulder, and Stiles is five seconds from giving up completely.

How Do You Solve a Problem Like Stiles? by LadyMerlin (1/1 | 1,955 | Teen)

The problem with Stiles is that he absolutely totally 100% thinks he's hilarious.

It's not so much a problem as it is... No, it's a problem.

Because he really isn't, except maybe when he snorts milk out of his nose, or when he mimics Coach Finstock perfectly, or when he goes to Deaton's to play in the puppy pens and ends up with the same grumpy Pomeranian chewing his hair each time. But that's entirely besides the point.

Nothing about the way Stiles is fellating that Popsicle is funny. Nothing.

princecharmingwinks special mentions (this fic has badass Stiles with magical glowing tattoos and is sooo well written. the feels!!!)

Beltane by DevilDoll (1/1 | 8,254 | Explicit)

"Watching Stiles heal someone has always been a little uncomfortable for Derek, like he's seeing something intimate and private that shouldn't have an audience. That's nothing compared to how it feels." This is an AU in which Stiles has magical healing powers.

It appears I was mostly in the fluffy mood this month (not a lot of smut - oh dear! I’ll have to include some more E rated next time hehe). Hope you enjoy this fics. Remember to leave kudos and comments. <3 

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - Chapter 15

It’s Monday and as promised the new chapter of the adventures of east station is here. This one is angsty. Our Aelin is dealing with the aftermath of her nearly death at the airport fire. She tries to be brave but fails.

Oh, yeah, Dorian is a cinnamon roll.

CW: PTSD, panic attacks and language.

The gif as a header is silly. it was just to lighten the mood before the chapter. it was desk job and fire and the scene in the IT CROWD where Moss deals with a fire on his desk is hilarious.

Hope you will enjoy.

------------------------

The following morning Aelin was, for once, the first one to wake up and she felt giddy. The doctors had given her the all clear to go back to work. It was desk for duty only and had recommended to take it easy for the first week back. She was excited at the idea of wearing her uniform once more and be back with the rest of her squad. She had missed them all. Their banter, their company.

She looked at Rowan still asleep and giggled. It was so unusual for her to wake up before him. Had it been his day off, she would have let him sleep but he had to go to work as well so she had decided to wake him up in a special way. She got off the bed, walked to his side, then took a step backward and finally jumped and landed on him.

“What the heck?” he roared, grabbed her and turned in a very swift motion caging her in between his arms with his body towering on her.

“I am your new alarm clock,” she smiled looking up at him.

“Worst alarm ever.” His legs trapped hers as well so that Aelin was fully blocked under him.

“What if I was am naked? Still a bad alarm?”

His hands sneaked down her body and Aelin was getting ready for them to make her a happy and satisfied woman, but they stilled and a moment later he started tickling her.

She whimpered and tried to wiggle free from his grasp but Rowan was relentless and she was now screaming for him to stop and shaking her head wildly, blond hair flowing everywhere.

“Rowan, please.” She shouted when she reached a point in which she could not take it anymore.

He finally stopped, realising he had punished her enough but never moved away from her.

“Enjoying the view, captain?” She mused at his strange expression.

“You are stunning,” he whispered dropping a kiss on her lips “you have no idea, but when you smile you can seriously give a man a heart attack.” His voice now gruff with lust.

She looked down at his strained briefs and grinned “not just that apparently.”

Aelin pulled up on her elbows and begged for a kiss “we can have some morning fun in bed, or we can use the shower and save some time.”

A second later she was airborne and Rowan was carrying her to the bathroom “I love the way you think, captain.”

The shower took much, much longer than they had planned. Both of them were now running around the bedroom grabbing pieces of clothing to get ready to go to work.

“Totally worth it.” She told him while pulling up her jeans.

He leaned over while tying his tie and kissed her “so, so worth it.”

“How do you feel?”

“Giddy, to be honest.” She confessed ignoring the pang of nervousness that she had been feeling since the day before. She wanted to go back, but deep down a part of her was panicking at the idea, but she had not mentioned that to Rowan. He would fuss unnecessarily and she was done staying at home and be a patient.

She took a deep breath and wore her hoodie.

“Are you going to finish as normal tonight?” Rowan turned to her, while wearing his jacket.

“Yes, I will be doing a normal nine till five for now. Aedion knows. A part from paperwork I am useless.”

He heard the pang of sadness in her voice and walked to her to hug her “you will go back. You just need to be patient, Fireheart.”

She sighed and her arms went around his waist to steady her “Yeah.”

“Do you want me to drive you?”

“No,” replied Aelin shaking her head “no, I will be fine,” but from the tone Rowan knew she was not. Something was nagging at her and he feared she was putting a mask on. He sighed and blamed it on his crazy need to fuss about her.

Together they left the house and he accompanied to her car. And that alarm bell rang again in his head when he noticed the smallest hesitation in her.

“Text me, call me if you need anything.” He kissed her, cupping her face in his hands “I love you, captain.”

“Of course, who wouldn’t?” She gave him a tight smile and kissed him back “I will see you tonight.”

*

Aelin had been driving for a good ten minutes when she pulled over and got out of the car and on the pavement very quickly, feeling sick. Leaning against the car door, she felt her heart racing madly in her chest and she felt like she could not breathe.

“Are you okay, miss?” Asked a passerby noting her distress.

“I am okay.” She managed breathlessly “thank you.” 

Slowly she moved back in the car and sat back at the wheel but did not move. Just closed her eyes and waited for the queasiness to pass. One long deep breath after the other and she started regaining a bit of sanity and eventually started the car and drove to work.

She left her car along the pavement as usual then got out and took a step onto the apparatus floor. Both engine and truck and the ambulance were still there. She took another step then froze and noticed her hands shaking. What was wrong with her?

The yard was empty but she knew the crew was going to be on shift, they were probably all having breakfast together as they were used to do when they started a shift in the morning.

She looked at the trucks and almost fell sick again. A part of her wanted to turn around and run and she almost did it if it hadn’t been for Brullo’s cheery voice “cap,” he shouted, walked to her and crushed her in a bear hug.”You are back, we missed you so much.” He let her go and grabbed her hand “come on, we are all in the kitchen having breakfast. This is going to be an amazing surprise.” Aelin nodded and followed him. Her heart racing in her chest so much it hurt.

Once in the kitchen the noise that erupted as soon as she stepped in was deafening,

Everyone ran to her for a hug or to ask her questions, Ress gave her back her captain hard hat and she tried very hard to smile, to look happy while instead the emotions were too much for her to bear. She pulled away joking that she needed to breath and for some reason she had to fight tears from falling. 

“Hi guys.” She did her best to sound as steady as possible.

Aedion got to her side and ruffled her hair and her mind remembered that he was the one who found her almost dead in the inferno that had been the airport crash.

She felt sick again. This was all too much.

“I am back,” she said, giving them a tight smile her.

Aedion seemed to notice her distress and pulled her closer in a hug “finish your breakfast everyone, then you know your duties for the morning. It’s Aelin’s first day back. Let the woman breathe.”

Aelin kissed Aedion on the cheek “thank you, I missed you all, but that was a lot.”

“We have plenty of breakfast, would you like some?”

She nodded. She and Rowan had been too busy having fun that it had been too late for him to make breakfast, something he had complained about quite loudly. He was very strict with her meals and always made sure she ate. He had been incredible and since he had started living with her she had fallen for him even more. They had even stopped fighting. They bickered, but that was fun. She thought about him and in that instant she realised that his arms around her would be the only way to calm the panic rising in her. He grounded her.

Aedion passed her a plate with some breakfast and she took a bite, ignoring the protests of her stomach.

Once it was just the two of them Aedion finally took the courage to speak to her “are you okay?”

She knew she would struggle to lie to him “you know you can talk to me, right?”

Aelin stood “I have a lot to catch up to,” and walked away, ignoring Aedion completely.

Once in her office she slammed the door shut and walked to her desk. It was covered in mail and few notes from Aedion. He had been acting captain while she had been off. She turned on the pc and spent a good hour going through all her emails.

Marcus had sent her a few articles about the incident at the airport and had highlighted the parts about her. One of the articles had an aerial picture of the disaster and as she saw it, she stood and moved away from her desk. Her breath became laboured and dizziness and nausea came back. She went to the sofa and sat down, taking her head in her hands. In that instant she heard someone knocking at the door and stood quickly “come in,” she said trying to sound herself.

Lysandra’s head popped in “hi, you. Can I come in? Are you busy?”

Aelin motioned to join her on the sofa.

“How does it feel to be back?”

Terrifying. Aelin wanted to say “a bit overwhelmed, there is so much I have to catch up that I don’t know where to start so I am just sitting on the sofa and hope work will complete itself.” Good, let’s put her usual swagger on. 

“Aedion tried to keep everything as you left it and did as much as he could. He hated it. He kept saying that the place behind that desk was not his. We all missed you so much, but he is the one who missed you the most and not just because of the acting captain thing.”

“I missed you all as well.” At least she didn’t have to lie about that.

“How is it going with the captain? Is he still living at your place?”

Aelin nodded “yes, we are fine. We even stopped fighting. He is wonderful and he helped me a lot.”

Lysandra smiled “so you two are shacking up officially?”

“We haven’t discussed the matter, to be honest.”

“But you are happy with him.” Asked Lys tenderly, who was very happy to see her friend letting her fears aside.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Lysandra clapped her hands “don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”

Aelin rolled her eyes “too early for that, don’t you think?”

Lys was about to reply but dispatch alarm went off calling for the ambulance “that’s my clue to go.”

The woman stood and disappeared through the door and Aelin sighed heavily then ran to the bathroom and was sick. She sat on the cold floor for a good ten minutes, her head against the stall’s wall. Then she heard voices, left the stall, washed her face and tried to act normal to avoid suspicion. 

“Hello, captain” Ansel’s cheery voice reached her.

“How are you doing?”

“Amazing. I am due to go and help Luca with training in a moment. The kiddo has his exam in two weeks.”

She felt a smile reach her lips “that is wonderful news.”

“The whole squad has been taking turns helping him with training. We are positive he will crush it. He got really good.”

“Good, just… look after him once out there.”

Ansel patted her shoulder “always. We always look after each other.” And the woman winked at her and walked away leaving Aelin alone once again.

Aelin splashed her face with cold water and walked back to her office determined to get some work done. 

She was in the middle of finishing some report when someone else knocked at the door and Dorian appeared “hi, you.”

Aedion had told her how broken he had been when they thought she was a goner. 

Her hands started trembling again but she hid them under the desk.

“Good morning, chief. I was not expecting you.”

“I just wanted to pop in and see how you were.”

“Your emails and reports are what’s gonna kill me.”

For a moment she noticed a flicker of pain flash in his eyes “just ignore them.”

Aelin shook her head “emails and reports are the reason I am at work today. That’s all I can do for the foreseeable future.”

“You know why.” He said softly.

“I know chief,” she said in a harsher tone than what she wanted “it doesn’t cancel the fact that at the moment I am useless as a firefighter and replying to emails and finalise million of reports is all I can do. Guess they don’t teach you that at the academy.”

He moved a step to her “Aelin, I know how you feel just now. I have been there myself and I hated every minute of it.”

Aelin sighed and calmed down. During his time as captain at west he got badly injured and after he got back to work he had been assigned on desk duty for three months. She was still a candidate at his station but remembered how miserable the man had been.

“How are you? Mentally. We do have support if you are struggling.”

Aelin run a hand through her hair. She knew. The counsellor had already been in touch with her. It was protocol for them to go through counselling and help in case of a traumatic incident.

“I am fine.”

“Aelin, you almost died.” He said through gritted teeth.

She stood “I know. I was there. The roof collapsed on me. I was the one who almost asphyxiated in that bloody inferno. I know.” She snarled at him.

“Have you spoken to the counsellor?”

“Not yet.”

Dorian sat down in front of her and Aelin was annoyed at the fact that he was going stay longer than she hoped.

“Aelin— ”

“Don’t” she stopped him “don’t use that patronising tone with me, chief. I know the rules. I will make an appointment with him.”

“So,” he continued, enjoying himself ��how is it going with your captain?”

“Fine.” She replied, leaning back in her chair and twinning her hands under her chin.

He smirked “are you friends already?”

Aelin rolled her eyes “as if you don’t know that we are more than that.”

He raised his hands in a yielding gesture “just checking. You and Aedion did a good job with the airforce. I had Commodore Salvaterre singing the praises of the two of you.”

Aelin’s mouth fell open “Lorcan. That Lorcan actually praised us.”

Dorian nodded.

Aelin texted Rowan very quickly. His reply came back within seconds: are we talking about the same man?

She showed Dorian Rowan’s reply “see? Rowan can’t believe it either.”

“Well, he did.”

Aelin shrugged “fine, I’ll believe you.”

“Good,” he finally stood “I’ll leave you to your emails. Just please talk to the counsellor, okay?”

“Yes, chief.”

Dorian smiled at her and left and Aelin let out a very long breath. She was finally alone again and hoped no one would go in her office again. She loved them all, deeply and she missed them but she felt so out of sorts that even interacting with them was getting difficult.

The dispatch alarm went off again and this time it was for engine and truck. She stood and quickly went to where they were parked and from a corner looked at her team go away without her. Once they were gone she leaned against the wall and sobbed so hard that she ended up sitting on the floor for a moment. Then she stood and slowly walked away. She reached the room where they kept all their gear and walked in, finding it empty as the guys were on a call and her gear was the only one present.

With one hand she touched her new jacket. Her old one had been damaged in the fire. It smelled wrong. That was the first thing she noticed and it was pristine, with no marks, and she hated it. With her fingers she brushed the letters at the bottom saying captain Galathynius. She sat in a corner and hugged her legs to her chest and hid in the empty room for a while. Then all of a sudden she stood and ran back to her office, grabbed all of her belongings, switched off the computer and all the lights and ran back to her car.

Fifteen minutes later she was back home, very quickly she got to the closet she shared with Rowan, grabbed her blue duffel bag and started shoving clothes in it. Then grabbed a few other items from the room and ran outside back to her car.

A moment later she started driving north, not having an idea where she was going. She just aimed for the mountains. She needed to be away from everything. She had tried to be brave and go back to work, and ignored the truth in front of her. She was not ready. She had been stubborn and convinced herself and probably the doctors as well that she was, but the whole morning had been the proof that she had gone back too early. In reality she had been terrified since the moment she had left the house. The station had reminded her of what happened at the airport. Reminded that hers had almost been the next funeral. That the bell had almost rang for her.

Tears began flowing and eventually she had to pull over, the tears not allowing her to see the road properly. She was not okay and she felt lost. Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt like she was going insane.

Eventually, Aelin went back to driving and remembered that Lys had once mentioned holiday cottages in the mountains. She pulled over again and took out her phone to search for the place. Once she got it she set her sat nav and went back to driving. She arrived half an hour later and was impressed by the location of the place. It was in the heart of the Staghorns mountains and it felt like the most peaceful place on Earth. Once she was better she definitely had to take Rowan there.

She parked the car at the guest car park and got inside the reception, got herself a cottage for a week and drove to her allocated house. It was perfect.

She parked the car, grabbed her bag from the trunk and walked in.

The cottage was all in wood and was gorgeous. She noticed the fireplace and flinched at the massive fire hazard. Her bag landed on the floor and she then curled on the bed. The next thing she did was to switch off her phone.

*

Aedion and the squad got back to the station over an hour later and the first sign he had that something was wrong was that all the lights were off. Aelin was supposed to be there. He jumped off the truck, gave some orders to the two teams and walked to Aelin’s office. Once in he noticed it was empty “Aelin?” He called.

“Why all the light were off?” Asked Lysandra joining him. 

“Aelin is not here.” He replied quietly.

“I thought she was staying until five.” Added the woman. 

Aedion kept walking around the station as if in search of a clue of her whereabouts. He went to check the captain’s private quarters but they were empty.

“No sign of her anywhere,” said Lysandra joining him again.

Aedion took out his phone and tried to call her. He looked at Lysandra and shook his head.

“What if something happened?” Lys whispered. They were keeping the news to themselves for now. Let the other think she had gone home early.

“Ae, she was not okay. I spoke to her and she pretended to be fine but I saw the mask. She was just putting her usual bravado for us.”

Aedion sighed heavily “I know. She avoided talking to me and Dorian told me the same thing. She is not well and the fact that she is gone worries me immensely.”

“You are her cousin, dammit, you should have pushed her.” Lysandra said through gritted teeth.

“You know better than me that it doesn’t work with her.”

Lysandra groaned in frustration “call the captain. Call him and see if she is there.”

Aedion pulled his phone out of his pocket once again and called Rowan.

“Hello  Lieutenant.”

“Captain…” he took a deep breath “I was wondering if Aelin is there at the base with you.”

“No, why would she? She told me she was going to work.” Rowan’s panic rose a notch.

“She was here this morning, but when we came back from a call, she was gone. I thought she came to see you.”

“Are you telling me that you have no idea of where she is?”

“Yes, captain.”

Rowan swore “I will be there in fifteen.” And he hang up.

Aedion looked at Lysandra “he was not happy.”

“Fuck.”

Rowan marched into the fire station not long after. Aedion directed him to a quiet area of the station and Lysandra followed. 

“Where is she?” Asked Rowan as soon as they were away from everyone. 

“We don’t know. She is not here, but she was when we left.” 

Rowan started pacing back and forth nervously “was she okay while she was here?”

Aedion shook his head “She didn’t tell me but I know she was not well. I tried to talk but I had no luck.”

Rowan leaned against the table, hands on the wooden surface “She is not. She has been suffering from nightmares and panic attacks. She is not sleeping well either.” He explained “I suggested plenty of times to talk to someone, you guys have counsellors, right?”

Aedion nodded.

“I told her to delay her return to work by a week. She was giddy this morning, but I could feel there was something wrong, it bugged me the whole morning.” He ran a hand through his hair “I should have told her to stay at home. I just believed her.”

Aedion placed a hand on his shoulder “She does that. She did the same after Sam died. She put up a wall and pretended she was fine. Fooled us all until she just broke down completely.”

“Well, I would like to avoid for her to break down this time if possible.” Rowan growled back. All the signs were there and like an idiot he had believed her. He felt like the worst boyfriend in the universe.

“Any idea of where she could have gone? Any friends anywhere else?”

Aedion shook his head.

Rowan grabbed his phone and tried to call her and desperation hit him when it did not connect “Aelin it’s me. Pleas call me when you hear this. I beg you. Where are you? Everyone is worried. I love you.”

“I’ll go home and see if she is there or if there are any clues of where she could have gone.”

“We are still on shift until tomorrow morning, keep me updated, please.” Said Aedion with a broken voice.

“I will. And you will let me know if you have any luck or think of any places she might be?”

“We will,” said Lysandra, grabbing Aedion’s arm.

Rowan nodded and disappeared.

Twenty minutes later he was at their place, but the house was empty. He walked around the house but it looked exactly like they had left it in the morning.

“Where are you?” He whispered.

He opened their closet and in an instant he noticed something missing: her blue duffel bag.

“Shit.” Some of her clothes had gone as well.

He grabbed his phone.

“Captain?”

“I think she is gone.” Rowan’s voice was filled with deep panic.

“I thought we established that.”

“No, Aedion. She left. Her duffel bag is missing and some of her clothes are gone too. She must have come home and packed because they were here this morning.”

“What do we do?”

Rowan sat on the bed, his head in his hand, while with the other he held the phone “I have no idea.” He felt useless and in utter fear.

“I think it’s bad. She did not flee after she lost Sam. She was broken but never left. Whatever it is, we need to find her soon.”

“How?” Roared Rowan “How the fuck am I supposed to find her if we don’t have any idea?”

“I don’t think we can until she wants to be found.”

Rowan wanted to scream. 

He was going insane.

***

It was four days later and Aelin was sitting on the cold floor of the bathroom sobbing loudly. She just had four days from hell. The nightmares had been relentless and she was now so scared of falling asleep that she had stopped sleeping altogether. She had started surviving on coffee but that had the horrible side effect of increasing her panic attacks. 

Slowly she tried to stand, she washed her face and made her way back in bed. The last panic attack had left her a wreck and she felt like she was losing her mind. 

Her stomach growled but she could not eat. She had bought some meals to heat up in the microwave, but she was struggling to keep food down.

She ignored the pangs of hunger and curled under the blankets, shaking like a leaf.

She woke up an hour later with a terrible scream leaving her lungs. She sat in bed and patted her body, realising she was not on fire. That was the recurring nightmare. Her body on fire, the flames engulfing her as the ceiling collapsed on her over and over again and the horrifying smell of her skin burning. And then the feeling of suffocation. She would always wake up gasping for air.

Slowly she calmed herself down and her breathing went back to normal. She was drenched in sweat so she stood and went to the bathroom to take a shower. 

Once under the jets she let herself relax and think of happy memories. Of happier showers she had shared with Rowan. And then guilt hit her. She had left. She had just disappeared. No notes, nothing.

He must be going insane. It had been four days and she could picture him mad with grief.

She should have never left. She should have accepted his help. 

Gods, she missed him so much. The tears came back in force and leaned her head against the wall. She felt so, so lost.

Aelin sat down in the shower floor and pulled her legs to her chest and cried until she felt spent and exhausted and had no tears left to shed. Eventually she found the strength to leave the shower wear  clean clothes and sit back in bed. 

With trembling hands she grabbed her phone and switched it on. A barrage of notifications hit the device. She read all the texts from Rowan. There was no fury from him, just love and support and a plea to come back to him. Her chest felt tight in pain. She had let him down so much. How could she face him again? After all his support since she woke up in a hospital bed how could she flee from him instead of begging for his help? A help she clearly needed. She had lied to herself. She was fine, she had told herself over and over again. But she was not. Not even remotely close to it.

She listened to her voicemails from Rowan and Aedion and her cousin sounded far more furious than Rowan.

She started typing a message to Rowan but stopped and started a few times. What could she tell him? I am a mess, why bother with me? She shook her head and deleted the message again.

Then she had her answer.

I am sorry.

-----------

TAGS:

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@courtofjurdan​

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@tillyrubes10​

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (7)

(I hope you guys enjoy this new chapter! Feel free to check out the mini series connected to this fic called Journal Entries. I will warn whoever reads it that I’m not sure how long I’m going to keep it up, though.)

Ch.1 / Ch.6 / Ch.8

Chapter 7: That Happy Glow

“This is gonna be so much fun, Tikki!” Marinette exclaimed as she slid on her light pink flats. “I can’t wait to get to the aquarium!”

“Don’t forget your purse!” Tikki reminded, zipping around her chosen’s head. “I want to see some of the fish too!”

Marinette laughed and reached for her coat. The weather had been reported to drop over the weekend, and she didn’t want to take any chances. “Of course! I’ll make sure to pack some cookies for you too.”

When Felix told her last Monday that Adrien came to Rosemary looking for her, She’d been understandably distraught. Dupont had been given strict instructions to keep her new school’s name a secret, yet her old classmates were still coming to talk to her. It left many questions that needed to be answered. For example, how did they find out? Did Bustier tell them? Felix had mentioned that a girl was the one to give Adrien the information, though that hardly narrowed down the suspect list. Was Adrien the only one who knew? If not, were her other classmates going to try to come for her too? She’d asked her mother about it as soon as she got home, and as expected, Sabine flew into a rage. 

“I send my daughter to a new school to get her away from her old classmates, and what do they do? They follow her there!” She’d fumed. “Unbelievable.”

Once Marinette talked her down from calling the police to file for harassment, they called the school, and Mme Bustier insisted that they’d been tight lipped about Marinette’s new school, but Marinette didn't buy it. Who else could have told Adrien? No one knew about her attending Rosemary, not unless Nathalie managed to find the information, and that was highly unlikely.

Although the situation was a mix of frustrating and worrisome, Marinette took comfort in the fact that Adrien seemed to believe she wasn't actually attending Rosemary. At the very least, he hadn’t stopped by again- as far as she knew -and hadn’t visited the bakery again either.

A small sigh passed her lips at the thought of how close she'd come to exposing herself as a Rosemary student. Thank goodness Felix had been out there to greet Adrien instead. His quick thinking had really saved her, and he even offered to give her a ride home afterwards. (For the second time) She never intended on asking Felix for help with things like this- mostly because she didn't want to bother him -but it was good to know she could depend on him when she needed to. Not only did he help her with Adrien, she also noticed him trying to keep others around her during the day after everything blew over. Allegra would order lunch with her more. Claude would join her to go to the lockers more. Allan would walk her to classes that they didn't have together. Things like that. Felix even offered to accompany her himself on a few occasions. It was a sweet gesture, and although the extra attention wasn’t necessary, it was greatly appreciated. Maybe she should make him a little thank you gift. What sort of things does he like again? Books and chess.. and silence.. how could she make a gift out of that?

Either way, Marinette couldn't thank him enough for his kindness, and now that six days of blessed silence has passed, the nervousness from the Adrien encounter was replaced with giddy enthusiasm for the aquarium. She buzzed around her bedroom to finish getting ready, putting on her scarf and earmuffs as quickly as she could. Allegra was supposed to come pick her up, but they were all going to meet up and walk into Aquarium de Paris together. She didn’t want to hold anyone up.

Marinette wrapped her purse around her shoulder, finally finishing her outfit, and bounced over to the trapdoor to go downstairs. Allegra should be arriving in about five minutes. That gave her just enough time to snag a few cookies for Tikki, a croissant for herself (and maybe Claude), and say goodbye to her parents. 

“Goodmorning, sweetheart!” Sabine greeted warmly.

“Morning, Maman!” Marinette smiled, briefly pausing to let her mother kiss her on the forehead.

“Did you have a good sleep?” Tom asked, holding out an arm to her.

Marinette let out a nervous chuckle as she gave him a side hug. “Yes and no. I was kind of too excited to sleep.”

“You and me both.”

Marinette turned to one of the small tables in the bakery to see Allegra sitting with a smile and a cup of coffee. She was bundled up too, which told Marinette that she was probably right to put on her winter clothes.

“You’re already here?” Marinette asked, panic briefly seizing her chest. She looked around for the time. “How long have you been waiting? Am I late again?”

Allegra chuckled and stood up to pull Marinette into a hug. “Not at all! I just happened to get here a few minutes early, and your parents offered me a coffee while we waited for you to come down.”

Marinette relaxed a bit and hugged Allegra back. “You could have come upstairs to get me.”

“I didn’t want to rush you.” Allegra shrugged. “Besides, your parents are fun to talk with!”

Tom and Sabine both smiled and straightened with pride, causing Marinette to giggle.

“Here,” Tom said, taking a brown, paper bag out from under the counter. “We packed some breakfast for you.” 

“And made sure to put plenty of croissants in for Claude and the others.” Sabine added with a smile.

Marinette took the bag with a sincere “thanks”. That saved her time on sneaking around for snacks.

“Oh, Claude is going to love those.” Allegra smirked, touching the bag to feel how warm it was. 

Marinette giggled and nodded in agreement. It’s been almost three weeks since she started at Rosemary, and Claude still asks for croissants every lunch period. “Are we ready to go?”

“Yep! My driver’s waiting out front for us.” Allegra replied, tilting her head in the direction of the door.

“Have fun, you guys!” Sabine cooed.

“Make sure to take plenty of pictures with the fish!” Tom added with a wave.

“We definitely will.” Allegra beamed, looping her arm with Marinette’s.

With a final wave, they stepped outside together, and Marinette sharply inhaled as the chill of the air immediately gnawed at her features. She knew it was going to be cold, but she didn’t think it would be this cold. 

I hope Felix didn’t decide to get there early today. Marinette thought to herself as they scrambled into the backseat of the car. 

“So are you excited?” She asked Allegra while buckling in. Claude had been bouncing around the school walls all week for this trip, but Allegra hadn’t said much about it. Neither had Allan. Of course, they didn’t have to be excited. Marinette was just curious as to whether they were or why they weren’t.

“Absolutely!” Allegra grinned, bringing a smile to Marinette’s lips as well. Guess people show their excitement in different ways.

“Probably not as excited as Claude, though.” The blonde continued, a humorous expression crossing her features. “How many fish did he text on the group chat again?”

Marinette squinted slightly as she thought about it. “I think.. Twenty seven? Maybe twenty eight.”

“Twenty eight sounds about right.” Allegra said with a nod. “I swear Allan was this close to blocking him.” 

Marinette laughed. “That knife meme was hilarious! I still can’t believe that Felix was the one who sent it. I was starting to think he didn’t read the group chat.”

“Yeah, he surprises us every now and then.” Allegra mused, a fond smile coming to her lips. “Like this aquarium trip. I don’t think he’s ever once agreed to go somewhere with us after the first invite.”

Marinette shrugged and settled into her seat as the driver pulled out onto the road. “Well, he did say that you were going to force him either way.”

Allegra’s smile turned devilish. “And he’s absolutely right. If he had said no to coming, I would have dragged him there myself, but that’s never stopped him before.”

Marinette tilted her head in a nod. That was certainly true.

“Maybe he just likes aquariums?”

Allegra hummed, a mischievous glint in her sky blue eyes as she said, “Or maybe he likes someone who’s going to the aquarium.”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. Like as in like like? Like a crush? Felix didn’t seem like the type to have a crush on someone, though after hearing him talk about the lovers in his classical playlist, she supposed it was a possibility. 

“Is there someone else you guys know that might be there?”

A short laugh burst from Allegra’s lips, almost like Marinette had missed the point of something, and she shook her head. “No, nevermind. Forget I said anything. Let’s just enjoy our agreeable Felix while we have him.”

Marinette nodded, though her thoughts still lingered on the comment. Felix developing romantic feelings for someone sounded like such a foreign concept to her. Not that he was unlovable, or anything. He was just.. too logical. He didn’t dote on feelings. The only circumstance where she can clearly see him acquiring a spouse would be an arranged marriage. He’d probably be the one to plan it, too, seeing it as the most beneficial choice between both families. What type of wife would he pick, anyway? She’d probably be beautiful and quiet, right? Not to mention smart. Felix wouldn’t be able to stand someone ‘incompetent’. Maybe she’d be a bit of a perfectionist like him?

A soft hum passed her lips. It was definitely a thought.

~~~~~~

Felix grit his teeth as the biting chill of the morning seeped into his clothing. It was times like this that he wished those jokes about the incredible inaccuracy of weathermen were true. He hasn’t even been outside for ten minutes, and his fingers were already numb. If Felix had known that his coat and gloves would be this ineffective, he would have taken the second coat that his mother tried to insist he wear earlier.

A shiver ran up his spine as a particularly cold burst of wind whipped past him, and he pulled his coat tighter around his waist. What time was it? Were the girls going to be arriving soon? 

He flicked his wrist upwards to catch sight of his watch. Allegra said that they would be meeting at Aquarium de Paris at 10am. Being 9:58am., they should be arriving any minute, but that didn’t stop him from heaving a deep sigh towards the wait. Note to self: Don’t arrive early to activities that take place outside during the winter.

A nudge to the arm brought Felix’s attention to Claude. He’d also arrived early- probably out of sheer excitement. He’s been blabbering about this trip all week -but the cold didn’t appear to affect him nearly as much.

“Are you nervous?” The brunette asked, causing Felix to shoot him a flat look.

“Why on earth would I be nervous?”

“Oh, no reason..” Claude said, his tone light and teasing. “I just know that Marinette’s going to be here.”

Felix rose a brow. “And?”

Claude smiled knowingly, but Felix couldn’t imagine what the brunette thought he knew this time. 

“You two have gotten pretty close lately.”

“In what way?” There was the physical way or the mental way. Granted, both ways were incorrect, but it was an important distinction.

“Well, you talk to each other all the time.” Claude answered, as though that should be some monumental fact.

Ah. So it’s the mental way.

“That’s usually what happens when two people are in the same friend group.” Felix responded. “They talk.”

“Yeah, but what about the library?” Claude argued. Why did he feel the need to argue? “You two were practically touching noses, and no one else was there besides me.”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. “Yesterday? When we were sharing headphones?”

Claude nodded, a Cheshire grin crossing his features. Why did he look triumphant? No one had won anything. “Yep. That’s the one I’m talking about.”

“Do you share headphones differently?”

“Well, no..” Claude half-shrugged. “But you guys are still pretty close, don’t you think?”

Felix paused. The label of being close to Marinette wasn’t a bad one, save for the fact that it was completely untrue. In light of a physical closeness, the only moments that they were close would be times when Marinette fell on top of him or yesterday, when they shared headphones in the library, and the latter scenario is being taken entirely out of context. They don’t walk around holding hands or hugging or sitting shoulder to shoulder next to each other, and in all honesty, Felix wouldn’t want to. He doesn’t enjoy constantly touching people. And as for the mental closeness, Marinette hasn’t told him anything that she hasn’t told anyone else. Felix knows a lot about her, yes, but almost everything he knows has been found out secretly, through silent observations. He would hardly call that “close”.

“No, I don’t think so,” he finally answered, “but I’m still confused as to why that would make me nervous.”

Claude pursed his lips, studying him for a moment, then sighed and crossed his arms. “Oh, nevermind. Either you’re in denial or you’ll figure it out eventually.”

A hint of frustration started to stir in Felix’s mind. Figure out what?

Before he could ask anything else, another voice cut into their conversation. 

“Oh, there you guys are!” 

It was Allan, and when Felix looked up, he noticed that Marinette and Allegra were accompanying him as well. Wonderful. He’d somewhat forgotten about the cold during Claude’s maniac ramblings, but now that his focus had shifted, the weather was hitting him full force again. He needed to escape inside before his feet were frozen to the sidewalk.

Claude perked up and waved to the three as he ran over to them. “Hey guys! What took you so long?”

Felix hobbled over to them as well, catching sight of Marinette’s sheepish smile as she said, “Sorry, Claude. We got here as fast as we could.”

Claude, of course, waved off the apology. “Nah, I’m just kidding. We weren’t waiting that long.”

The brunette scooped Marinette into a hug, coaxing out a laugh from her. She was so bundled up with coats and scarfs and gloves that Claude had to squish her between his arms to hold her, and it vaguely reminded Felix of a marshmallow. 

In weather like this, though, being a marshmallow didn’t sound half bad.

Claude blew out a contented sigh as he nuzzled his face into Marinette’s shoulder. “Man, Mari, you’re so warm! I need to start using you as my personal heater.”

Marinette chuckled and pulled back just enough to hold up a brown, paper bag. “Thanks, but I think it’s just the food Maman sent with me.” 

A gasp flew from Claude, and he immediately set her back on the ground. “Food, you say? As in, croissants food??”

“Yes, Claude.” Marinette giggled. “Croissants food. Maman packed a few extras especially for you.”

Claude literally let out a girlish squeal and made “grabby hands” for the bag. Marinette gladly obliged, letting him dig through it for his favorites.

“Your mom is the absolute best.” Claude said, his voice muffled from the chocolate croissant he bit into. “Please adopt me.”

The group shared a small laugh, but Felix rolled his eyes. Claude was always overdramatic. 

“You better not let Aunt Felicity hear you say that.” Allegra spoke up. She was also bundled to the max- though her coat was light purple -and looked about ten times warmer than Felix felt. “Remember the last time you asked Allan to adopt you?”

Claude scoffed. “That was different! This time I want to be adopted because of Mme Sabine’s cooking, not because of how many games Marinette has.”

“Oh, yeah.” Allan snorted. “That’s completely different.”

“Hey, mom will understand.” Claude insisted, placing his hands on his hips. “She knows she can’t cook anything to save her life. That’s why we have a personal chef.”

“Wait, are you two cousins?” Marinette cut in, confusion flicking across her features.

A slight frown came to Allegra’s lips. “No, why do you ask?”

“You called his mom ‘Aunt Felicity’.”

“Oh!” The blonde’s face lit up with understanding. “Yeah, we do that. Claude’s parents are Aunt Felicity and Uncle Albert, and Allan’s parents are Aunt Meridith and Uncle Theodore.”

Allan nodded in agreement. “I think it started back in middle school when Claude accidentally called M. Chanson ‘Uncle Arthur’ while taking some snacks.”

Allegra snorted. “Oh, yeah, that was definitely the start of it. Dad wouldn’t stop talking about it for days. He thought it was the best.”

Claude sighed, running a hand through his hair with a bashful smile. “That was totally embarrassing, but at least he liked it.”

“Can we all go inside?” Felix interjected. Talking about how they address the adults is nice and all, but his arms and legs have been burning from the cold for the last five minutes. Can’t they continue this conversation when they’re not standing in below-thirty-degree weather?

Claude laughed, throwing Felix a teasing smirk. “Aw, poor Fe. Are you cold?”

Felix scowled at his babying tone. “Of course I’m cold! Frost is slowly growing on our hoods as we speak!”

“Well, I’m not cold.” The brunette replied, swinging his arm around Marinette’s shoulder. “Because I’ve had some of Marinette’s delicious croissants to keep me warm.”

Felix scoffed and tugged his coat tighter around himself. Eating warm croissants certainly didn’t help him.

“They are pretty warm.” Allan said next to him. “You should try one.”

“He doesn’t have to.” Marinette, being the kind person she is, hastily jumped in. “We were planning on going inside, anyway, right?”

“Yeah, but I think Felix needs to taste one.” Allegra remarked. “It’s simply shameful of him to refuse them for this long, in my opinion.”

“I don’t like sweets.” Felix pointed out in annoyance. Just start moving towards the aquarium.

“Well..” Marinette faltered. “Maman did pack a regular croissant and a cheesy croissant..”

He held back a sigh. Though her intentions surely weren’t foul, his only ally had officially condemned him. It’s not that he cared to try one of Marinette’s croissants. After eating supper with Marinette’s parents last week, he had no doubt that anything they made was delicious. No, the problem came with the fact that he was being pushed to eat them. (The group wasn’t quite pushing yet, but he’d learned to pinpoint the signs of oncoming pressure.) If Felix says no, despite how unreasonable it might be, he expects that answers to be respected. The same way he would respect anyone else who told him no about something.

“See, there you go!” Claude smiled. “A nice, warm, non-sweet croissant to make you forget about the January weather.”

“I’d forget it just as easily if we walked inside.” Felix bit back.

“Oh, come on, Felix.” Allegra scolded. “Live a little! You don’t have to eat the whole thing, just one bite!”

“Guys, he really doesn’t have to eat it.” Marinette spoke up again. Felix silently thanked her for her efforts, but her previous comment made any resistance futile now.

“Oh, he’s eating it.” Claude stated. “He needs to know the pure bliss that is Mme Sabine’s croissants.”

“Plus, we’re not going inside until he tries it.” Allegra added.

Allan snorted. “Felix.. I think they want you to try the croissant.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed to a glare. “I’ll walk inside without you.”

“No, you won’t.” Allegra shot back. “You know why you won’t? Because you actually don’t mind trying the croissants. You’re just upset that we told you to try them.”

Felix was thankful for his pockets, because it hid the way his hands clenched into his fists. He absolutely hated when Allegra saw through his intentions. It made him feel transparent, vulnerable. Not to mention embarrassed. Was he that horrible at hiding his emotions or could he simply not match her level of observation? It was probably the former and that ticked him off the most.

“Just give me the dang croissant.” He finally bit off, jutting his hand out to Marinette. If he stared solely at her, he wouldn’t have to see Claude or Allegra’s victorious, blood-boiling grins.

Marinette flinched at the sudden movement and knitted her eyebrows, concerned. “A-Are you sure-”

“Positive.” Felix ground out, hoping she didn’t take it personally. Just give me the food so we can get this over with.

Although wary, Marinette handed over one of the croissants. The specks of yellow around the edges told him it was the cheese-flavored one.

With a deep breath to regain some composure, Felix took a bite of the breaded treat, and..

And it was incredible.

The croissant was piping hot, immediately stealing away the bitter coldness of the air as Claude had claimed. The cheese inside was stringy and practically melted in his mouth, and the softness of the bread allowed you to enjoy every bit of the doughy taste.

It took everything Felix had to keep a neutral expression. If they saw how much he enjoyed the food, they would never let him live it down. He’d be trying everything else under the sun merely because the trio was right one time.

“Well?” Allegra pressed. “How does it taste?”

“.. They are delicious.” He admitted, if only for Marinette’s sake. Downplaying Mme Sabine’s baking skills would only allow him to keep a small bit of his useless pride. He might as well be honest.

A smile slipped onto Marinette’s lips, but Claude’s triumphant laugh took away any satisfaction Felix might have gotten from it.

“I knew you would like them!” The brunette cheered. “Anyway, let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here!”

Felix scoffed, throwing a sharp glare at Claude. If it weren’t for how good this croissant was, he would have thrown it at him.

“Yeah, I think they’re open now.” Allan agreed as he checked his watch.

Curious, Felix checked his watch too. 10:10am.

“Oh! Race you guys there!” Claude abruptly announced, before breaking into a sprint. 

Allan chuckled and humored the brunette by going into a jog, and Allegra picked up the pace as well. Felix, however, elected to keep walking as he munched on the croissant. The heat radiating off of it was enough to stall the looming chill around him anyway.

“So..” Marinette began, drawing Felix’s gaze down to her. She’d apparently decided to walk with him instead of running after Claude.

For some reason, that gave Felix a sense of accomplishment.

“Did you really like the croissants?” She asked, her hands fidgeting with the paper bag.

Felix nodded, taking another bite of the croissant as ‘proof’. “Claude wasn’t joking when he said that she made them fluffier than the clouds. I’ll have to buy them for Mother sometime.”

A small smile graced her lips. “I’m glad you like them.” 

Felix offered a small smile in return. “Yes, me too.”

After Agreste’s visit earlier in the week, Marinette had been rather stressed. He noticed her looking over her shoulder often, checking windows before exiting buildings, spacing out during classes.. It was obvious that the encounter had unnerved her. 

He tried to ease her mind by rallying the trio to help. They recognized her sudden anxiety as well, and although Felix couldn’t tell them the exact reason, he hinted at it possibly being the usual nervousness of their first round of tests that was coming up. This caused them to swarm Marinette for study dates and extra lunches, asking questions about different subjects while they walked her to her locker or to her classes. When this strategy failed- which wasn’t often -Felix would also offer to accompany her. 

If she suspected his involvement in the extra attention, she didn’t show it, but she did relax after a few days of the special treatment. Felix took that as a success.

Marinette and Felix caught up with the rest of the group a few seconds later, and they all entered the aquarium together. Another shiver ran over Felix as they walked inside, the warmth of the building washing over him. He would have smiled with relief had it not been for the amount of people pushing against them. Despite the aquarium opening a little less than twenty minutes ago, people of all ages were already piling inside. Adults, teenagers, kids.. Felix supposed this was the price they paid for visiting on a Sunday.

“Everyone stay together!” Allegra instructed over the noise. She grabbed onto Felix’s wrist and Allan’s hand for emphasis. “We don’t want to get separated before we even pay for our tickets.”

Although it irked him for Allegra to be latching onto his wrist, Felix didn’t argue. Past experiences with the trio have made him well aware of how easy it was to get separated in a rushing crowd like this.

They weaved through the giddy schoolgirls and the tired parents until they found a steady line for the ticket both. There, they talked about which attractions to see first and which ones to save for later.

“I think we should just walk through.” Claude said, unsurprisingly. He was never one for order. “It’ll be easier if we just go.”

“But if we don’t have a plan, we’ll never get through it all.” Allegra pointed out. “It doesn’t have to be strict. We just need a vague goal to work towards.”

“We could start with the jellyfish?” Marinette suggested. “Those are always cool.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Allan agreed. “Then we could start working our way around to the shark tank. I say we save it for last since it’s the main reason we came.”

Claude let out a small whine. “Aw, what? Why would we wait till the end to see it if it’s the reason we came?”

“Come on, Claude, you know how the saying goes.” Allegra commented, flicking Claude on the shoulder. “Save the best for last.”

Claude grabbed his shoulder, even though the flick hardly hurt. “I never understood that expression.”

Allegra rolled her eyes with a smile and turned back to the group. “Are we all in agreement then? Start with the jellyfish and move to the sharks?”

“Works for me.” Allan shrugged.

“I don’t have a preference.” Felix stated, not that his opinion would matter much to anyone but Marinette.

With a (somewhat) solid plan, the group purchased their tickets and merged with the flow of the people to get to the main part of the aquarium. The first item on the list, aside from seeing Jellyfish, was to find lockers or another place to put their winter coats and gloves. Felix didn’t fancy the cold, but melting in a packed building also wasn’t preferable.

Allegra still held onto his wrist as they searched, but that didn’t stop the people around them from shoving and prodding to get through first. Felix jostled about, a scowl quickly forming on his lips after getting hit for the fifth time. How can it be so rowdy during the thirty minutes? Goodness knows what’s going to happen when more people start arriving! Why did he even agree to come here?

A gasp cut through the white noise of the crowd, and Claude called out Marinette’s name as she rushed forward. 

She stopped in front of the jellyfish tank they came upon and pressed her gloved hands to the glass, smile bright and eyes sparkling with awe. The jellyfish circled in the water with the current, glowing blue and purple and pink under the aquarium lights. 

A laugh of pure delight escaped Marinette, and she glanced over her shoulder at them. “Do you see how many there are? This is so neat!”

The sheer giddiness of her voice caused another smile to crawl onto Felix’s lips. Ah, yes. He remembered why he quickly relented to the aquarium visit. It was the first time Marinette had personally invited him to something, and he didn’t want to upset her if he fought against the activities as he usually did. After all, what thanks would that be to someone who constantly tries to keep him comfortable and respect his boundaries? 

“Yeah, they look amazing!” Allegra grinned, tugging Felix and Allan forward to follow the ravenette.

Felix followed with a slight glare. He knew that holding onto each other was for the best, but-

Another person slammed into his shoulder, and Felix full on growled at them as they walked off like nothing happened.

-but perhaps the next time he feels the need to repay Marinette’s kindness, he should simply send a ‘thank you’ letter instead.

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[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (02)

word count; 10,121

summary; after getting out to a rough call with newt, resulting in some unpleasant injuries, thomas jumps to a few conclusions.

notes; i don’t have anything to say here.

warnings; reference to violence, reference to gang activity, reference to injury.

“Can I have a cookie?” You motioned to the plate before you, and Fry never looked up from where he was working, nodding his head as he danced to the music in the kitchen, singing loudly to the song on the radio as he prepared everyone a lunch.

Picking up one of the biscuits, you smiled to yourself, before a hand was slapping on yours roughly, the biscuit falling to the floor, and you yelped, rubbing at the stinging skin of your hand as you looked up.

“Hey!” Brenda was cringing a little, seemingly feeling bad for her action, and you stared at the broken biscuit at your feet, before looking back to her. “What was that for?”

“They’re not real Oreos.” Your brows furrowed, looking at the pile once again as you picked up the abandoned one from the floor, walking around her to dump it in the bin, and she shrugged a little. “I filled them with toothpaste, to mess with Chuck. He always wants a snack after he finishes the chores, and Gally has him cleaning the bathroom.”

“So, why does he get messed up Oreos for that?” You questioned, following her to the couch as she grabbed her coffee and wandered away, and you settled in beside her.

“Because every candidate that comes through this house has to be pranked by everyone, it’s tradition. He won’t graduate until he has.”

You grinned, shaking your head fondly at those antics. “Okay, so what has everyone else done so far?”

A wicked look passed over her face, the room crowding with people and it seemed that everybody as gathering discreetly, seeming to know that there was going to be a prank going down. “Gally and Newt teamed up, they had Gally pretend to fall on a wet floor that he didn’t put a sign out on, and Newt faked the injury to be worse than it was. Poor kid freaked out.”

“Oh, that’s awful.” You bit at the inside of your cheek, trying to contain your laughter, and she shrugged.

“Thomas got a bag of dark brown dog hair from the groomers and tipped it over the shower door while Chuck was showering, he thought he was losing his hair, and he smelt like wet dog for days. He screamed like a little girl.” You laughed loudly at that one, unable to contain it, even if it was done by someone you hated because there was no denying that it was creative as hell. “Minho put slime in his locker, Frypan put bubble wrap in his boots right before a call, and he was popping with every step, hilarious. I don’t remember the rest.”

She waved a hand, sipping her coffee, and the room went quiet as an exhausted-looking Chuck entered the room, red cheeks from the exertion and sweating a little. The room went quiet, everybody’s gaze falling to Chuck discreetly as he crossed the room, and Fry kept singing.

“Oh, cool, Oreos. Can I have one?”

“Sure, kiddo.” Brenda piped up, and Chuck beamed, picking one up, bringing it t his mouth, before pulling it away, squinting slightly and frowning, and every breath in the room was held. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re kinda’ soft. Do you not know how to sore cookies?” He waited, before a smirk spread over his face. “Are these old? Like, really old? This is a prank, isn’t it?”

Her jaw dropped, and speechless for a moment as she fumbled for an excuse, and you cleared your throat. “They’re all good, I just had one. Probably just the steam from the kitchen.”

“Oh, okay.” He took you at your word, placing the whole cookie into his mouth and biting down, perfectly content for a moment, a few chews in, before his face was screwing up, and he was gagging, spitting the handful back out. “God damn it!”

The room broke out on raucous laughter, almost deafeningly so, and Brenda held her hand up to you, offering a high five for your contribution to the prank, coffee almost slopping over the edge of her mug form the ferocity with which she was cracking up in amusement.

“You all suck!” He spun around, fake anger in his tone as he grinned, pointing at you. “Especially you! I expected more!”

That only made everyone crack up a little more, and while it was still funny, it made you realise that he hadn't expected it form you, because you weren’t a real part of the team yet. You were still an outsider, you weren’t one who was expected to make pranks and join in with team activities, and your laughter dulled a tad. You weren’t angry or bitter about it, just a little disappointed at the flicker you found burning in your chest as you realised Newt had given you hope, and inspiration, his speech from only a week ago still tinging clearly in your mind, and you didn’t like that feeling, because getting connected to a team only made it that much harder when you were inevitably rejected.

He shook his hand off over the trash, a scowl on his face at the half-chewed snack that was scraped away, and Thomas came over, a smile larger than you’d ever seen him wear before, to lock his arm around the younger boy’s neck affectionately, knuckles ruffling his hair as he squirmed.

“Hey, Chuck, keep up this kind of morale and you’ll do great on squad.”

“Maybe he’ll choose to stay with truck!” Gally voiced, the room splitting wit amusement once again as an easy and lighthearted argument broke out, all in joked, about which team was better. Feeling a nudge on your thigh, you looked back to the woman facing you, her brows raised a little, sipping at her drink once again.

“What’s with the look on your face?”

“What do you mean?” You shifted to face her more fully, the crowds dissipating now the excitement was over, all going about their determined tasks, and she shrugged a little.

“You just have this look on your face. Like you’re happy but sad, nostalgic but bittersweet. You get it sometimes, when you’re looking at us all.” You sighed, not realising she was able to read you so well she was just like Newt, smart and intuitive, and you nibbled on your lower lip as you thought about your next words.

“It’s just nice to see you all like this. Happy and confident with each other, you’re a family.” You looked around, finding Newt, his attention focused on a conversation with Minho, and you remembered what he said, sighing a little as your mind was spinning and confused. “Maybe one day I’ll be part of that too, y’know?”

“You’re already a part of this family! You got a shirt with the logo on and everything.” You rolled your eyes at her joke, lips twisted into a gentle smile.

“No, I’m not.” She looked like she wanted or argue, but the look on your face silenced her, clearly not finished speaking. “I haven’t earned my way into this family, you don’t really know me, you don’t know if you want to welcome me yet. I’ll know when I am, if I deserve to be, I’ll know it.”

“You know, that's kind of poetic.” You scoffed at her claim, punching at her arm softly. “I think you’ll fit in perfectly, when that moment comes.”

You grinned, jaw dropping to thank her for her faith in you, before the alarm overhead was going off, and you were silenced, the room flailing to the same state, as you listened for what was happening. Only ambulance was called for, everybody else seeming t let out a sigh of relief, except for your friend across the room, who groaned loudly, before his chair was scraping across the floor as he stood.

“Up and at it, girly, let’s go!” He clapped his hands, and you struggled to unfold your legs to match his pace, his long strides already taking him to the door as you fumbled to follow him, his next words thrown over his shoulder; “I’ll start driving away without you if you don’t hurry up!”

“I’m coming, just wait!” You yelled, pushing through the doors as you grabbed your jacket, pulling the lightweight blue material up your arms, spinning around from backing out backwards, and crashing right into a solid wall. You groaned, stumbling a little, before a sneer was thrown in your direction.

“Watch where you’re going, would you?” The words were growled out lowly, Thomas stepping around you to continue on without waiting, and you huffed at his actions.

“It was clearly an accident!” He didn’t react, continuing to walk away from you, and your eyes were rolling before you could stop yourself. “Oh, get over yourself.”

He still didn’t reply, head held high, and that only irritated you more, as though you weren’t even worth his time, continuing towards the vehicle, engine already running from the second that your door slammed shut, Newt was putting the van into action. Strapping yourself in as he spun out of the firehouse courtyard.

Grabbing the monitor in front of you, the device was pinging with notifications, reading off every update that was coming in from the public and the police about what it was that the two of you were about to head into. It was a mess, you could tell straight from the off as reports continued to come in about what you were facing, skipping through it all to find details on what was actually calling you to the scene.

“Okay, we got a stab wound, it seems. A street fight, started between two guys, friends got involved, pedestrians got involved.”

“Probably some kind of gang activity.” Newt sighed, already seeming to prepare himself for the situation, and you weren’t unfamiliar with that kind of groups around this area, the rougher the neighbourhood got, the more vicious the groups became, and it certainly wasn’t a surprise as you began to pull through the harder-going roads.

There were blue lights flashing through the air before you’d even pulled up, crowds in the street, and Newt hit the brakes as he avoided hitting anybody, fighting to get through the scene. “What the fuck?”

The streets were blocked, you couldn’t even see the centre of the commotion yet, and a set of police officers came fighting through the crowds to find you. “I guess the fight spilled into the street, and cars got blocked.”

The second your window was rolled down, the noise became unimaginably high, screaming and shouting, the sirens of the cars going off and megaphones over the commotion as the police tried to break it all up. “There’s no way you’re getting through here, we can clear you a pathway, but it’ll take a few minutes, and I wouldn't recommend leaving your van in this area.”

You turned to look at Newt, his brow raising as you tried to work out what to do. Spinning your gaze back out across the crowds, you assessed the situation, barely even able to see the centre, and nobody was parting for the cars to get through, trying to create a pathway to get to the centre. The stabbing victim was undoubtedly going to be going to the hospital, and was likely going to be too injured to fight back through the crowds, and so the likelihood and needing the stretcher was raised high.

“You stay with the truck, I’ll go and do an initial assessment, drive up and meet me.”

“There is no way I’m letting you out alone in that. You’ll never make it out.” You huffed, but your lips flicked up a little at the edges form his concern, unbuckling yourself from your seat and edging yourself through the centre console to the back of the vehicle. “Come and sit back down, right now!”

“Someone’s gotta’ go out there, Newt, or we’re going to be answering questions on why we let someone die of a stab wound.” Lifting your bag onto your shoulder, you secured both straps over your arms, tight enough not to fall, and unlocking the back doors from the inside. “I’m already up now, you wanna’ stop me, you’ll have to catch me first.”

Hopping out and into the edges of the crowds you’d pulled up to, you made sure the latch was on, that the doors couldn't be opened unless it was by Newt himself, slamming them closed, and rounding the vehicle find the police officer who’d come to talk to you both in the first place. The blond was glaring at you from the driver's seat, shaking his head at your actions, even though you both knew it was the only way, and somebody’s life was on the line.

The crowds weren’t all that tough to get through at first, following the man in front of you, but as the crowds got rougher and the shouting got louder, you lost sight of him, trying to pick out the colour of his shirt or the hat atop his head, but it was impossible. Jostled from side to side, it got harder to fight your way through the hoards, and you were beginning to use your elbows to nudge people out of the way, fighting your way through.

An elbow, maybe a fist, you weren’t sure, but something solid collided with your side, a grunt leaving you as pain flared up, and you clamped your own arm down over the spot, pushing through the people. It was the first of many, your jaw clenches to deal with it as more spots across your body sparked with patches that would become dull aches in hours, the rioting growing stronger and more intense as the circle of people around you became a more personal addition to the aggressions. You’d have bruises on your shoulders later in the day, the abuse they were receiving as you tried to push through, one hand covering your face, and just like that, you were finding the eye of the storm, the battering you’d been receiving coming to a halt as you broke into the middle.

There was a man on the floor, everybody else being held back by police officers around the small scene, and you swallowed thickly, the barriers looking like they would break at any moment. You couldn't tell who was who, which of the men gathered here were friends of the man, and which ones wanted to kill him, and you were sure that the man who’d down the stabbing was probably in the crowds watching.

Kneeling beside him, you took in the scene, grimacing a little as your knee became sticky, the fabric covering it sticking to your skin with a growing stain as the pool of blood the man had released began to soak into your trousers. “Hi there, I’m a paramedic, and I need you to let me look, okay?”

His head turned to you, a snake on his lips, spitting blood at the ground by your body, and you sighed. Not a surprise, the gangs didn’t often take kindly to groups like firemen and the police, or the paramedics, being that they were mostly going against the law and the public interest, their own form of rebellion, and you did not serve those interests well.

“Alright, listen, you have two choices here.” He huffed, rolling his eyes as his head lay back against the concrete, blood seeping between his fingers from the wound as he coughed and your timer seemed to kick up a notch. “The police are holding these guys back, but I bet you can see at least one person out there who doesn’t want you to get better, am I right? Now, you’ve removed the knife, so you’re bleeding out, and nothing is stopping that, your hands aren’t even in the right place for putting pressure one it. So, either you get your hands out of the way and let me look, or you hope that you bleed to death before that wall breaks and someone comes to finish you off. Which is it going to be?”

He groaned, his body jerking and a cry leaving his lips as his hands fell away, and you nodded your head, a pair of rubber gloves being pulled onto your hands, trying to take a look. It was bleeding far too quickly for you to get any idea about what was happening, thick and dark blood, not the best sign, and you dragged a finger along his skin gently until you found the tear, the shrill cry he made signalling your location, and you measured it as best you could with your finger.

“Well, the good news is, your wound is only about a half-inch across, and it feels pretty clean, there’s no tearing. Smaller knife, huh?”

“Didn’t feel like such a small knife when I was being fucking stabbed.” He hissed, your brow raising, and you let out a light laugh.

“Oh, deadman’s got jokes, huh? That’s good, you’re holding on. for now.”

“If I’m a deadman, then you’re not very good at your job, are you?” His words were wheezed out, and you grinned, lifting his hand to place over the right place, pushing down on it roughly, and he cursed you in another language under his breath, gurgling a little as he did but holding the pressure.

“Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll have you fixed up real quick. You’re going to have to go to the hospital, but I’ll keep you alive ‘til then.” Slipping your bag down your arms, you opened it up, the first set you opened being a leather foldout of tools, unwrapping the knot and letting it fall open, filled with different instruments. With fingers hovering over them, bloody digits picking up a pair of scissors. Lining them up at the edge of his shirt, you looked back up to him, noting the way his eyes were rolling a little. “Hope you weren’t too attached to this shirt, because it’s not going to make it.”

He only grumbled, his hand barely flinching when you lifted it to place on the ground, and the speed at which blood was bubbling up from the gash across his flesh was slowing down, concerningly so. Cutting away his shirt, tanned skin was smeared with drying blood, a frown on your lips, and you hummed to yourself under your breath.

“You still with me there?”

He groaned again, and you hurried your work as much as you could. Grabbing at a handful of bandaging, you left it scattered across your lap, the first package being torn open and beginning to wipe up the blood that was seeping from his injury the rags becoming soaked as you worked, and as you cleared at the darker blood staining his skin, you began to reach the fresh red, lesser as you want, his skin paling around the sever in his flesh. Picking up his wrist, the veins were fading, no longer visible directly under the skin, and you worried your lower lip between your teeth as panic set in.

“Hey, c’mon, now. I need you to hold on for me, alright?” He twitched a finger, the hand laying on the concrete became a fist, and you picked up an antibacterial wipe, fingers shaking a little as you tried to open the packet, and it felt like the screaming around you was getting louder, everything going into overdrive. “Look, my partner will be here in one second, and we’ll get you on the stretcher, and get you to the hospital, okay?”

“Okay.” His words were raspy, laboured through the liquid building in his throat as he tried to speak, but you were relieved to hear anything at all.

“This is going to hurt, alright?” He didn’t respond to that, but he made what you assumed was supposed to be a scream as you wiped over the cut, apologising quietly as he thrashed with what energy he had left, and the movements caused a surge more blood to spew from the wound. Looking up, you found the front of the white van, your ambulance number printed in dark blue lettering across the front, a relieved sigh making itself known from your throat as the driver’s seat was empty, and Newt would be here in a moment. “Alright, we’re going to get you on a stretcher now, alright?”

“‘Bout time.”

You laughed breathily, his head twisting toward you, and a pang of guilt shot through you as you really took a moment to observe him. He couldn't be any older than fifteen, he was still just a kid, and you tried to suppress the nausea that was twisting in your gut at the idea of a kid dying on your watch. “When we do, we’re going to roll you onto your side, just for a split second. When we do, I want you to cough. Hard as you can. It’ll hurt, but we can get some blood out of your throat. Can you do that?”

His hand twitched again, wet breaths as he loved the fist to sit on its side thumb raising weakly to conform he understood in what was the most pitiful and depressing use of a ‘thumbs up’ that you had ever seen. Using one hand to put pressure on the wound, you tried to pack up your kit with the other, cries leaving him as he finally let his youth show through, not enough strength to hide it anymore and clean tears were being left along the dirt and blood on his cheeks from the tears that were rolling free, gasping for breath as he struggled to even breathe.

The shouting took up again, loudly, a sudden combustion of violent and terrified screams, you twisted your head to glance over your shoulder, catching a flash of movement, before a solid hand landed on your shoulder and you were being torn backwards, a yelp on your lips. You were steady, for only a moment, legs flexing underneath you s you were partially lifted from the flood in the grip, before you were landing on your side, your arm crossed under you and the bruised side of your ribs was battered even more, a pained scream, before it was cut off as the side of your head hit the ground to follow.

Your ears were ringing, head pounding from the collision with the pavement and eyes a little blurry as you watched the man who’d dashed forward be tackled by two sides of blue, pinned to the floor by officers as the crowd roared in a combination of thrilled and angered hollers. You groaned, every muscle in your body feeling weak for a moment, and your eyes watered at the burn along your side increased tenfold, now a throbbing agony.

A gentler hand now, rolling you over, and you blinked up at whoever it was, managing to decipher Newt as your vision cleared. His mouth was moving, and you could somewhat understand him, your hands finding the floor again as you pushed yourself to sit up, his hand smoothing around to your back as he helped you.

“Newt, get the kid.”

“Are you okay?” He persisted, the stretcher long abandoned, and you nodded your head, despite the pain it caused.

“It’s a kid, Newt! Get the kid, I’ll be fine.” He didn’t look so convinced, shaking his head a little, before you were pushing him away, taking a moment to catch your breath as it had been forced from your lungs, and he did as told. You heard the cough, and the velcro-sounds of the neck brace being put on him, the young boy groaning as he was moved, and you decided that if he still had the energy, then you did too.

Making a fist, you braced yourself for support, pushing up from the ground and staggering to your feet, feeling a little weak as the pain travelled your body, but you could handle it, and as the kid was adjusted on the strong yellow blackboard for the stretcher, you made your way to the other side. Taking a hold of one handle, and Newt stared up at you. His jaw dropped to argue, a slight shake of your head silencing him, and he frowned again.

“You ready?”

“Are you?” He retorted, and you locked your hands over the other handle, watching as he mirrored your stance, bent at the knees and ready to halt him up onto the trolley.

“Lift on three, alright?” He did the count down, and you bit on your tongue to keep your complaints and pain to yourself, lifting the board with the boy up and securing it onto the folding trolley, trying not to jerk him too much as you strapped him down.

“You know, it’s going to be worse getting out then it was getting in. Lotta’ them don’t want him to leave.”

You had already braced yourself for that, the back of the ambulance only ten metres away, and you had to reach it, strap him in, and get the doors closed, before you were safe and could get to the hospital. Pushing the vehicle along together, you were grabbed at, ducking fists and avoiding kicks as you struggled through. Newt moved first, unlocking the back of the van and rolling down the ramp again, grabbing the front of the truck while you pushed from the back, pulling him up until the wheels locked into their place.

He moved to the front, the engine starting up as you retrieved the ramp and pulled the doors closed, watching as hands were snapped out of the way when you showed no regards for trapping or breaking fingers. The second they were shut, you locked them, jerking a little and trying to catch yourself as the van went into motion.

Leaning over the boy before you, a hand on the top of the vehicle to hold yourself steady, you let out a relieved breath as he blinked, eyes turning to look at you. Your first move was getting a heart rate band on his arm pushing up his sleeve as the shredded material of his shirt hung open, and he didn’t even move as the cuff was placed around his upper arm, squeezing tightly. The machine above you clicked into life as it gained date, a steady and alarmingly relaxed heart rate ringing out, and you were determined to do something about that. Lifting down an oxygen mask and twisting the tank on, you lifted his head, securing the band around his skull and ignoring the throbbing within your own as the mask settled over his mouth.

Now, you could move to the wound. Barely patched up, the quickest job either of you could do in the middle of the riot, you had time to focus now, trying to hold yourself steady as your body trembled angrily and the vehicle swung around corners, sirens blaring as you rushed to the hospital. “Jeez, Newt, can you hold us steady?”

“Sorry! I’m trying!”

You only huffed, meeting his eye in the mirror as he looked back to you, a slight twinkle in them despite it all, raised at the edges to show a smile you couldn't see. Focusing back on the injured kid before you, the wrapping on his stomach was carefully removed, the bleeding somewhat under control, but you were putting that down to a worrying amount of blood loss, his sin going pale, eyelid drooping as he barely clung to consciousness, and you began to try and keep it as well closed as you possibly could while you approached where he could get real care.

Plastic stitches, strong enough to attach to either side of the wound and pull it shit, sticky and resilient on the hold, and they sealed it up enough to stop the copious amounts of blood that had been coming through, narrowing it down to small beads. Grabbing for a larger, cleaner patch of gauze to cover the injury, for now, you doused it with an antibacterial, the product being just wet enough to soak into his wound, before pressing it over his cut and sealing down to his skin, the paper tape fastened it and you let out a sigh of relief.

His heart rate was stabilising, it wasn’t ideal but he was at least reaching a level he could hold, and you slumped down into the seat as you felt newt begin to slow down, picking up the radio on his dashboard to call it in as the roads narrowed and became a little more calm, approaching the hospital. Newt was talking in the front, reciting everything that he could about the boy’s injury, and he wasn’t in much of a state to tell you much about his blood type or allergies right now.

A hand reached out, locking onto your wrist, and your eyes snapped up to find the young boy, his head rolled to the side to look at you, it was a weak grip, a somewhat distant look in his eyes, and you shook your head as you watched him reach up to try and remove the mask. Doing it for him, you removed it carefully, placing it over his chin, and he coughed a little with the sudden change in air consistencies, but it was a healthier and dryer sounding cough than it had been.

“Thank you.” You barely caught the words, your brows furrowing as you took a minute to decipher what he’d said, still not believing it when you worked it out, but the earnest look in his eyes said it all. Brushing some of the sweat and grime matted hair back out of his face, you sighed, placing the mask back over his mouth gently, and trying to offer him the most reassuring smile you could.

“You gotta’ get out of this lifestyle, kid. You’re young enough to change everything, still. You could still get good grades, go to college, do something great.” He stared at you, confusing flittering through dull eyes as you spoke. “You don’t have to still be doing this in ten years, you can stop.”

He shook his head, looking as though he attempted to speak again, and you didn’t allow it, knowing he needed to just rest for the final few moments.

“I know you feel like there’s no way out, and that the other boys in the gang are your family. You need a healthy family, a supportive family, not a family who let you get stabbed. I know a thing or two about taking any family you can get, but you have to find the right one, okay?”

He didn’t respond for a moment, looking away from you, and you were certain that you’d hit a brick wall, but his hand slipped down from your wrist to your own, squeezing tightly as he nodded his head, eyes sliding closed, and you could feel Newt’s gaze flicking back and forth to you as he pulled up to the front of the hospital, clearly having heard your words, but you never looked at him, keeping your eyes on the kid whose life you were saving.

The second that the vehicle stopped, you were out of it, like a flash, unlocking the doors and unrolling the ramp, freeing the stretcher wheels from their locks. Uncuffing the band on his arm and oxygen mask from around his head, it was left to dangle uselessly, cleaned for later so that you could roll him into the hospital. Two nurses met you at the door, taking the stretcher and walking him away, letting you spew off any extra facts you could think of, his eyes sticking to yours for a final moment, before he was disappearing behind a curtain that was dragging shut, and you could finally feel yourself breathe easy again as he fell into expert hands.

You let out a long sigh, turning to face Newt, who was in much the same position as you were; a little battered and bruised, totally frazzled, and in desperate need of a rest now.

“You ready to go?”

“Not ‘til you get checked out yourself.” He motioned a hand along your body, and you looked down at yourself, arms crossing defensively over your chest. “Don’t look at me like that, you’re going to say something like ‘they’re only bruises, Newt’ or ‘it’s not that big of a deal’, well, maybe they are and maybe it’s not, but we’re not leaving until you get it checked. I have this worry you, like, broke a rib, or something.”

You gaped at him, hating how well he knew you, and he smirked as he stared back, raising a challenging brow and crossing his own arms, completing the stare down, the battle of wills, that you were both having. He was just as stubborn as you were, unwilling to back down, and you gave in, rolling your eyes as your shoulders slumped. “Fine, I’ll get my ribs checked, but only if you get that ankle checked.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me ank-”

“So, you didn't get kicked in your bag leg while loading the ambulance? And, you haven’t been favouring the other since we left?” He scowled, throwing an arm over your shoulders and letting the slight limp show as the two of you walked over to the nurses’ desk.

“I don’t like how you turned that one me.”

“What are friends for, huh?” He turned to you, leaning against the counter as you aired for assistance, and he beamed.

“Oh, so you admit that we’re friends, now? You know, that’s one step closer to wanting to stay.” There were more words on his tongue, you could practically already hear them, something about a ‘family’ no doubt, a joke about the conversation he’d overheard between you and the patient, but he was interrupted before he could get the chance. A nurse he knew, sweet eyes and a name tag with ‘Allison’ written on, and she guided you both to separate beds, only a curtain to separate you, and yet as you rested against the cushions, you already felt like you could fall asleep right there, relieved just to get off of your feet.

Your head was hanging, eyes slipping shut a little, and you startled when the curtain was dragged back open, the metal hooks scraping over the bar holding it up, and you jumped, looking up at the doctor before you. Dark hair, tanned skin, and a sweet smile on his lips as he held his hand out to you to shake. His name followed, introducing himself as a ‘Doctor McCall’, and he pulled up a chair, the wheels rolling over the floor as he took a seat before you to let you explain what happened.

Undoing the buttons on your shirt, he shook his head with a bashful smile and a falsely judgemental eyes as he took in the extent of the damage, and as you looked down at the dark purple bruising beginning to spread over your skin, and the swelling taking lace, you realised you may have underestimated the damage. Perhaps it was a good thing to have Newt looking out for you. You weren’t used to that.

He pressed along your skin gently, the rubber gloves on his hands cold and making your twitch, silence going by for a few seconds as he tested your breathing, listened into your chest, and watched you raised and move your arms, trying to be honest about your pain when he asked, and when it flared up.

He decided you didn't have a broken rib, a diagnosis you were grateful for, because the longer it took, the more it felt like Newt may actually have been right. It was simply bad swelling, a collection that would take at least two weeks to start truly dying down, but you were cleared for duty as long as you tried to take it easy. He cleaned the cut along your hairline, paper stitches standing out in a stark contrast to your skin that you soon covered with your hair, and with a few painkillers in you and a schedule for more, as well as a prescription for some bruise cream, you were sent on your way.

Newt was already waiting, staring disdainfully at the contraption on his foot, and regardless of the pain it caused, you laughed loudly as he turned the glare and scowl on you. “I have to wear this bloody thing for a week, thanks to you!”

“I think you look stylish.” You teased, and he scoffed.

“It’s annoying already, and it makes my foot itch. I hate it.” You only rolled your eyes, but even at the awkward steps he was taking with the pressure-holding and padded velcro boot he wore, he was no longer limping, and that was a good thing.

“You know, I’m going to have to drive. You’ll press all the pedals at once with that thing on.” He looked like he wanted to argue, but could clearly tell you were right, and his shoulders slumped even further as you held out your hand, watching him fish through his pockets to find the keys, and handing them over reluctantly.

The ride back to the station was filled with music and quiet chatter, you telling Newt all about this kid and his sense of humour, and the great thing you thought he could one day do, and he was happy to listen, telling you about some of the other patients he'd worked on himself, as the current chart-toppers played quietly in the background, keeping your moods high and upbeat.

You couldn't deny that it was nice, to have someone to consider a friend, someone you could rely on, and with every case you worked - today’s in particular - you were finding yourself trusting Newt more and more. He was someone who made you laugh, he had a sharp sense of humour but gave you the harsh truths you needed, even when you didn’t want to hear them, and yet he still cared about you, that much was clear, and you were finding yourself starting to care about him, too.

You both groaned as you pulled into the driveway, watching the delivery truck for pharmaceutical supplies arrive, and it wasn’t a lot of boxes, but you still had paperwork and the cleaning of the truck to do, as well as unpack all the new supplies into the station medical kits and the van, and you stared at one another for a second. He offered his hands in a battle of ‘rock, paper, scissors’ for it, and yet you knew he wouldn't be able to handle it.

“You go inside, and put some ice on your ankle. Do all the paperwork, and I’ll sort the supplies and the van out.”

“Yeah?” He perked up a little at the offer, sitting up in his seat as you parked the van properly and handed him his keys back, both of you hopping out of the car, and walking around together to the front of the vehicle.

“Yes, I’ll go sign for everything and get them to bring it inside, you go find ice.”

He grinned, ruffling your hair with one hand, and you sighed, rolling your head from side to side to loosen the knots forming, before heading over to where the delivery man was waiting. As he began unloading the boxes inside of the garage doors, you checked over the list, ticking off in your head everything that had been gathered, and what they hadn't been able to get a hold of, signing your name at the bottom of several pieces of paper, and handing it back to him. He tipped his cap at you, a sweet older man that always made you laugh, and you waved him off as he left, hands falling to your hips as you stared at the boxes.

You were left with your thoughts, trying to come up with a game plan, and your body was desperately screaming out for a shower, when a loud shout of your name echoed around the bay, loud enough that you’d have been able to hear it from the other end of the station, your head snapping up.

Thomas was staring at you, pure fire in his eyes, that made you gulp, and he stormed toward you with determination, stopping a few feet away. “What the fuck is that?”

“Uh, supplies?”

“Not the fucking boxes, the boot on Newt’s leg.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, and everyone in the room who had been working on the trucks and the tables around fell quiet, the silence so tense you swore you’d be able to hear a pin drop. “He has a bad leg, you already knew that, and yet you let him get injured. What kind of fucking partner are you?”

“That’s not fair! We-”

“That’s not fair? No, what’s not fair is knowing that Newt has done everything he can to make you feel welcome here, to try and drag you kicking and screaming into a house you don’t want to be in, and at which you're not wanted, and this is how you repay him?” That stung, your jaw snapping shut as you swallowed thickly, eyes flicking over the other people who had all gone stock still, hoping if they just observed and didn’t get noticed, they wouldn't fall victim to Thomas’ sudden wrath too.

You got it, you truly did. Thomas and Newt were the best of friends, ever since they were kids. Newt had told you the story of how they'd practically been ‘friends since the sandbox’, and you did feel awful for what happened to him, but it wasn't your fault.

“You want to be a part of this team? You want to make it here? Then you need to start acting like a member of a team, and start looking out for people other than yourself.”

He stormed away, spinning on his heel, and your nails were digging into your palms from how tightly your fists were clenched. You weren’t going to make a scene, or breakdown and give him the satisfaction. Instead, you held your head high, making your way to the showers to be alone with your thoughts and wash up, to try and soothe the aching pains along your body, and the aching pain in your chest from his harsh words.

Turning on the hot water, your eyes squeezed shut, letting out a long and shaky breath as you tried to let go of your emotions. You were trembling slightly, unsure whether it was from the way you’d been spoken to, the events of the day, or simply the pain in your body, but dipping your head under the water, you breathed out happily at the hot water beating down against you.

You were tense, muscles stiff and joints practically locked as you tried to relax, and you could have dozed off from the very second that your eyes closed. It was a struggle to simply find the motivation to wash yourself off, water dripping from the tip of your nose and your shin as you looked down, eyelashes feeling heavy and clumpy as you stared at your feet, a tint to the water as the dirt often day washed off.

There was a cut on your knee, brushing along your thigh and your knuckles were torn from your collision with the ground, but luckily, they were all small cuts that would heal very quickly. The bruises would take longer, your side littered with them now, one big bruise that was stretching from your hips to under your arms, fanning around your stomach and as far as your bak in all different shades of splotchy severity.

It hurt to lift your arms and wash your hair, and it hurt even more to scrub your body, stretching muscles gourd and cleaning at the skin. When you finally got out, trying to rub some simple cream into you face and comb your hair, the edge of your t-shirt held between your teeth to keep it up as you stared at the markings in the mirror, a patch wiped in the steam on the glass to be able to see, a tube of cream from your personal medkit open in your hand, and you weren’t sure you even had enough left to cover a patch this large.

You gave it your best go, starting in the middle where it hurt the most and working out toward the edges, eyes lined with tears as your fingers pressed to the skin, rubbing the cream until it was warm and could distribute more evenly across your skin, pain flaring up with each patch you touched. It felt as though it was on fire, even as you lowered your shirt. That pain took a while to rescind, you had pulled on your boots and tied back what you could of the still slightly damp hair, knowing that you’d never be able to hold up a hairdryer long enough to get it dry anyway.

The speakers overhead chirped twice, a melody that was different to the alarm that asked you to go to call, but this one was something that always brought joy, telling you that it was time for you to go home. The end of the day, the next shift coming in, your team leaving as House ‘21’s Team Two came in to take over. You grabbed your hoodie from your locker, no longer needing to look as professional, but knowing that you still weren’t going home anytime soon, you needed to at least be wrapped up warm.

You still had supplies to unpack, and a van to clean, blood dripped on the floor and equipment to be sterilised, and as you left the locker room, you swung by the cleaning cupboard, a bucket of supplies under your arm as you went. A lot of your team were still hanging around as you exited, getting ready to leave as the first of the other team began to trickle in, making sure there were always enough people left here to hand over in case there was a poorly timed call.

The fire teams had it reasonably lucky, each team shared the same squad or truck vehicles, but the ambulances were separate, and so you’d only loathe yourself if you didn’t do it now, and had to come in early before your next shift to sort it.

Unlocking the back doors, you opened it up, unfolding the ramp and lifting each individual bottle out of the bucket to line them up along the back of the truck. The mop bucket was left empty, and you knew you’d have to clean the floors, but you wanted to get everything else done first. Stripping the sheets from the stretcher, still stained with blood, and the plastic sheet underneath too, you grabbed a new wrapping from the hatch over the bed, covering the simple mattress that was laid over the metal bars.

Dropping the dirty rags onto the cold stone floor outside of the van, you grabbed at a bottle of disinfectant spray, shaking it as you went, and popping the top off of it. You sprayed everything, covering the inside of the mask and the outside, every surrounding piece of equipment, anything the man may have touched, or that you might have while wearing bloodied gloves, all the way to the handles on the insides of the doors.

You sprayed the seats, too, knowing that you’d had blood on yourself as you’d sat there, and the smell of bleach and chemicals was making your eyes sting and your throat feel itchy and blocked, but at least it was clean. Dropping that back down, you found some cloth and glass cleaner next, the windows and the mirrors dirty and dusty from the commotion, and you knew they needed to stay clean, so your guidance when driving was never impaired. It was all squeaky clean when you were finishing with it, only the floss left to be mopped down, and then the supplies unstacked, and you placed your hands on your hips as you stared at it all, feeling proud despite the protesting your body was giving up.

You still needed to mop, blood stains and dirt on the floors of the truck, but that was arguably the easiest part of your job, and so you scanned your eyes around for the mop bucket once again. There were several buckets still lay out, disinfectant, bleach, different germ killers, and some that you’d simply selected for their nice smell, and you added a splash of each to the bucket, a concoction you’d been using for years in many different formations from house to house.

Grabbing it by the handle, you held it in both arms, heading through to the rec-room, and dipping your head in a nod with a smile as you watched Newt and Minho head out, the former of who’s hand raised up in a wave as he continued to walk out with his friend, never stopping his chatter.

Placing the mop bucket under the hot water canteen, it rested of its own free will on the counter, and you leaned back a little, taking a small break. Fry was still looking through the fridge, grabbing the tupperwares of food he’d made but never had a chance to eat, his dinner for the night most likely, before nudging it shut with his foot and offering you a bright grin as he left. Brenda was singing loudly from the locker room, the new team beginning to filter in, and fill the space, and as you heard the cupboard door behind you open, you jumped, snapping back to attention and unsure of when your eyes had even closed.

Taller than you, a good free inches on your height, you turned to look up at the curly-haired boy standing beside you, watching as he retreated from within with a cereal bar, unwrapping it as he nudged it closed, peeling it open and turning to face you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Just a little tired, ready to head home. Not much left to do, now.” It was a small lie, only brief, because you’d probably still be here for a couple of hours with the pace at which you were moving and the workload that was left, and you turned to flip the tab on the hot water, deeming it to be enough as the sweet smell of the floral mix you’d added to the bleach drifted around the room.

“I meant, how are you doing.” His gaze dropped down to your side, the side you were holding a somewhat limp arm at, before coming back up to meet your gaze, and taking a bite of the snack in his hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m a candidate. Ninety percent of my time is spent schlepping around doing all the chores. I saw you cleaning the trucks while I was going through some paperwork, you’ve been favouring your right side. You must’ve gotten the other side beat up pretty bad.” You raised a brow at his observations, impressed by how much he’d managed to deduce, but he dipped his head, a small smile on his face. “Also, after Thomas yelled at you, Newt chewed his ear off for, like, five minutes in front of everyone and said you got hurt too.”

“And here I was thinking you were just that observant.” You tutted, leaning down to pick up the bucket, and Chuck jumped in, taking it for you, instead, and you mumbled a thank you, walking along beside him.

“You know, you could have come and asked me for help. I didn’t think you’d still be around cleaning this late.”

“Well, someone has to do it, right? It’s best to just get it done, and then I can go home and relax.” He placed the bucket down at your feet as the two of you came to stand before the opened truck, and you grabbed for the mop, dunking it into the hot water and swishing it around a little.

“Yeah, but, you’re hurt. I could have helped.”

“It's my job, Chuck. Not yours. You already have enough on your plate.” You walked up the ramp, beginning to swipe the wet end across the floor, stains and muck smearing as you went to reveal the polished metal underneath. He tucked his hands into his pockets, shoulders rising and falling a little.

“It feels like you can’t ask anyone to help, right?” You paused, looking up at him, and his face was painted neutral, but an understanding look shone in his eyes. “I get it. When you feel like you’re more just colleagues than friends, everyone is nice to you but asking a favour of them still seems more like it’d be a burden on them. An inconvenience. You’re on the team, but you’re not on the team. That’s how you feel right?”

“Did you talk to Newt?”

He laughed, shaking his head, the young boy’s curls bouncing as he did. “No, he wouldn't get it. Newt is great, but he’s on the team. I’m just a candidate, they still worry I might drop out, or have my experience and transfer to another house instead. They don’t trust me yet. Not fully. I think you feel that way, too.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You paused, rinsing the mop and ringing it clean to wipe at the floors again, pausing to lean on the handle a little. “They like you more than me, though.”

“Maybe, but I still have more in common with you right now than I do any of the others. We can be in this together.” That brought a smile to your face, your heart warming a little bit, because it did feel nice to finally have someone else to relate to, and so you found yourself smiling, figuring you might as well add a nod in agreement at this point.

“Alright, Chuck. We’re in it together.”

He laughed a little, reaching out one hand to smack against yours in a high five, your giggles mixing with his at the simple action, before he stepped back once again. “I’d stay with you and help out, but I have dinner plans with my mom. I can call and rearrange, if you do want some help, though? I feel like that’s what I should do.”

“Go to dinner, Chuck.”

“But, friends don’t leave other friends to clean alone when they’re hurt.” He sighed, a puppy-dog look crossing over his features.

“I will be fine, I swear. Go enjoy your family time, if it gets too much, I’ll just stop and leave it.” He made you promise to do so, his pinky held out in a way that made you laugh as you sealed the bond by wrapping your finger with his.

He took a few steps backwards, waving as he went, before facing the right way once again. You were left to watch him take his few steps toward the door, and you turned back to the job at hand, you kept up with the mopping, trying to make sure the floor was spotless, and using your foot to push the head of the mop along as you did, trying to ease the ache on your arms.

A knock against the edge of the ambulance, the metal ringing loudly, and you sighed, a smile on your face as you set the mop back down. “Thought I told you to go home, Chuck?”

Spinning around, your smile quickly dropped, the person looking up at you not being Chuck, and you tried not to frown as Thomas stared up at you. “It’s, uh, not Chuck.”

“I see that.”

He pursed his lips, a look more like a grimace on his face as he stepped back, letting you walk down the ramp slowly to stand before him, and he rolled on the balls on his feet a little as the space between you died with awkward tension. As the moment dragged out, you felt even more on edge than usual, watching as he let his eyes flick over the rest of the open space, avoiding you entirely.

“So, what do you need?”

“I wanted to apologise for shouting at you.” His gaze finally returned to you, an honest look on his face as he did, and you sighed trying not to seem quite too aggressive in your stance as he offered the first apology between you both. “Newt said you got hurt too, and that I shouldn’t have gone off at you, so, I’m sorry.”

“Right.” You hummed, not sure of what to say now that he had, and you lifted an arm, holding on the elbow on the other side, slightly defensive as you tried to steady your own anxiety. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Can I see?”

“What?” Your eyes narrowed on him, and he sighed with a slight hint of irritation in his voice.

“The bruises. Can I see how bad it is?”

“I’m a paramedic, Lieutenant. I know how to diagnose bruises, and I had it checked out at the hospital, I’m perfectly fine.” You turned away from him, taking barely a step before his hand was wrapping around upper-arm, and turning you to face him again. It wasn’t a tight grip, but it was on your bad side, and it hurt a little bit as you spun. He seemed to sense the pain, maybe it was the wince on your face, but he let go.

“Can you stop making it so hard to extend an olive branch, or whatever? It’s my job to know how badly injured you are so I can try and make your workload lighter. I’m just trying to be nice.” He growled, the word coming out through gritted teeth, and you swallowed a little, a single jolt of guilt running through you.

Turning to your side, you lifted the edge of your jumper and shirt, shivering a little at the cool breeze that had brushed over your skin as you did. He hissed under his breath, reaching out a little but never touching you as he took it in, before nodding his head. He looked at you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning up from your eyes to your hairline, squinting a little at the mark there.

A hand landed on your cheek, high enough that his thumb could push almost-dry strands out of the way, turning your head to the side, and your jaw dropped as he did, feeling his thumb smoothing over your skin lightly. Pulling your head away from him, he dropped his hand back to his side, caring his throat, and that same awkward tension rose between you again. “They’re pretty bad.”

“Well, they’re not sunshine and flowers.”

You swore you almost saw amusement flicker across the blank look on his face for just a second, but you'd never be sure, and so you simply folded your arms and tried not to clench too much. “You want some help carrying it all inside? You can finish mopping, and then we can put the stuff away together.”

“That’s really not n-” He raised a brow at you, challenging the refusal of the help and hidden olive branch he was offering you. “Fine, yeah. That would be nice.”

He only dipped his head, moving to the boxes in the corner, he opened up the first, lifting out rolls of bandages and bringing them back over as you inched the bucket down the ramp once again. He brought them over, stepping up alongside you and resting the box on the gurney as he began to unpack the contents quietly.

“Oh, the gauze! That goes in t-”

“I know where it goes.” He muttered, your jaw snapping shut, and you huffed a little. He never cast you a glance. “I’ve worked here a hell of a lot longer than you have.”

You only hummed, bending enough to pick up the blood soaked sheets from the floor and take them to the washers. He didn’t spare you a glance as you informed him of your plans, letting you walk away in silence as he unpacked boxes.

It wasn’t ideal, it certainly wasn’t comfortable, but at least it was something. It was the longest the two of you had ever been in one another’s company without it becoming a screaming match, and so it was a step beyond simply despising one another, finding some kind of common ground.

[moonlit-imagines]

Teacher’s First Student

Peter Parker x Harrington!reader

warnings:

a/n: ISHGESUHEGSHSVYSJE

prompt:

It was a lot to take in, I’ll give you that. Disappearing for five years to come back to a drastically different life, where do I even begin?

School. Because “school always comes first.”

Your dad was still teaching at Midtown High, so at least you found some familiarity when you re-entered the school. That and a good portion of your classmates were in the same boat as you. There wasn’t a long enough adjustment period to, you know, get acclimated into your new lives.

Before you had dusted, you didn’t just go around telling people that your dad was Mr. Harrington, you could figure out why. And he let you have that! He didn’t want to “embarrass you in front of your friends,” he so lovingly teased.

But after the shock of five absent years and the loss of your mom (she wasn’t dead, she was just a bitch), you decided to make some changes to how you conducted yourself because, in this case, family comes first.

Part of that new motto you stuck to was eating lunch in his classroom, just to make up for lost time. Usually no one bothered him during lunch because, well, who purposely crosses paths with Mr. Harrington? He has a tendency to make others around him uncomfortable when he overshares, you’ve seen it a million times.

Today was different, very different. Peter Parker came knocking and walked right through the door to ask a question about the science fair, but stopped in his tracks when he noticed something strange.

“Am I interrupting something?” Peter asked, motioning between you and your father.

“No, that’s alright, Peter! You’ve met my only child, y/n, right?” Mr. Harrington excitedly reintroduced you, which he didn’t do often. It was his moment to shine, but it took Peter a second to make the connection.

“You’re Mr. Harrington’s kid?!” He blinked in disbelief as you took a bite out of the sandwich your dad made you “with love.” Yeah. You were Mr. Harrington’s kid. The secret might be out now, not that it was ever that big of a secret.

“That’s me.” You covered your mouth as you chewed. “Any other questions?”

“I gotta go.” Peter up and left without even trying to ask his original question, he was too overwhelmed with whatever that was. It felt wrong, he had to tell someone. “Ned! Ned, listen to me.” He pulled Ned’s jacket in a forceful manner, trying to get as close to his ear as possible. “You know y/n?”

“Yeah, I know y/n.” Ned nodded as MJ’s attention was caught.

“They’re dad is Mr. Harrington.” Ned’s eyes went wide, but before he could react, MJ intruded into the conversation.

“You guys didn’t know that?” She spoke as if everyone was in on this big secret but the two boys.

“No! Nobody knows that!” Peter defensively called back.

“I knew that.”

“You know everything.” Ned shook his head and looked back at Peter. “What now? That was the most interesting thing to happen to me this week! I don’t know what to do with myself now. Thanks a lot, Peter.” He buried his face in his hands and groaned. “Did you ever ask Harrington about the science fair?”

“I forgot! I was so caught up in the moment that I just ran!” Peter admitted. “I didn’t even tell you how I found out!”

“How’d you find out?” MJ continued to keep herself in the loop, she thrived off of the dishevelment of her friends, maybe she could even push Peter into tears.

“Mr. Harrington just told me! I walked into the classroom to ask one simple question and he was like ‘this is my only child. that’s the one.’ I wish Dr. Strange still had the time stone so he could save me from that moment. Now I have knowledge that I don’t know what to do with!” Peter’s rant was honestly just hilarious to her, but it seemed that Ned had began an existential crisis. Was it...was it that serious? “Will you go in there instead? Please, Ned. I can’t go through that again!” Peter shook his friend by the shoulders until he snapped out of it.

“No! No way, you can’t make me do it.” Ned refused, but it was too late for them.

“Hey, guys.” Your voice startled the group, making them freeze as if they’d done something wrong. They slowly turned around to see your awkward wave and uncomfortable smile. “You sounded like you needed something, Pete. My—Mr. Harrington sent me to go check on you.”

“You should sit with us, y/n.” MJ suggested just to tease the boys a little more, and you graciously accepted.

“So, you’re Mr. Harrington’s kid?” Ned nervously started and you shot a playful glare to his best friend.

“Good to know you can’t keep a secret, Pete.” You joked and leaned onto your hand.

“I—yeah. Sorry about that.” He scratched the back of his head, hoping that this would all just go away. “So, how’s your...” Peter cleared his throat before whispering, “dad...after all the—the ‘Blipping.’”

“Yeah, no, he’s great, we’re great!” You tried to convince, but the Harrington side got the best of you, time to overshare! “Me and my mom were presumed dead until everyone came back and we found out she used the whole ‘global situation’ to get out of her marriage. It’s been a crazy couple months.” You explained and left the group absolutely dumbfounded, they weren’t expecting to hear that.

“I-I’m sorry? That’s—” You weren’t finished yet, Peter.

“I mean, she could’ve handled that a lot better, you know? Since I’ve been back, all I’ve gotten is a postcard. Your kid comes back from the dead and all you can do is send them a stupid postcard?!” You seemed to have more feelings on the subject than you’d like to admit, Peter and Ned had decided to zip their lips. MJ, on the other hand, was actually very invested in your story. “Why can’t she make time to see me, huh? I mean, what’s wrong with that woman? I hope I never turn out like her, you know?”

“Oh, I think you’re safe.” MJ stifled a chuckled and sipped her milk carton, exiting the conversation just like that.

“Well, Peter? Questions? Concerns?” You turned back to him as you concluded the torturous speech.

“Uh...where did you say your mom was?” He asked with fear in is heart, not actually wanting to hear anymore of that in public, he simply wasn’t prepared.

“I meant about whatever you came to the science lab for.” You stared with a tilt of your own head.

“Oh. Oh, god. I’m sorry.” You should have worded your question differently, but Peter was already as red as a tomato. “You know what, Ned? How about you take this one, okay? Okay.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @spideyandtheboys // @ghost-bich // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovyfluxie //

[annabethy]

Internet crush au i love the thought that both percy and annabeth try to subtly flirt with each other whist being an ocean apart on youtube (and all of they’re followers know they’re simps) idk just a thought for if you’re still wanting prompts ❤️❤️

oceans apart: percabeth internet crush au

“Not again.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, pointedly sipping her cup of coffee and ignoring Piper’s whine for attention.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” Annabeth lies.

“Oh, so you’re not sparking up an online romance with the infamous Percy Jackson?”

Annabeth hums, taking another slow sip of her drink. “I am merely responding to his message.”

“Over twitter. In front of millions of people.”

Annabeth snorts, staring at the phone in hand. It was true, really. Somehow, Annabeth had managed to gain quite a big following on youtube during her years spent studying at Oxford, and at some point, a guy from UCLA took an interest in her. It had been pretty hilarious, especially to the millions of people watching her every move, and she just hadn’t been able to put a stop to the online flirting, which is precisely why she was flirting with a man that was oceans apart from her.

“You’re never even met this man,” Piper points out.

“That’s what makes it fun,” Annabeth says. “An online romance. Who doesn’t love it?”

“I’m not saying no one loves it because this is the best thing to happen in all of the twenty-first century, but he’s in California, and you’re not.”

“It’s all fun and games,” Annabeth says.

“Yeah, right.”

Annabeth blinks. “Do you have something you’d like to tell me?”

“You two are practically in love with each other.”

Annabeth flushes. “Are not.”

“What are you typing then?”

Annabeth looks down at the thread being sent back and forth between the two popular youtubers. By this point, their entire conversation was being filled with hundreds of thousands of people having mental breakdowns, thinking the two were actually going to get together.

Not that she would mind that. No, she hadn’t seen him in person, but they’re practically best friends, and he’s a huge sweetheart.

“Nothing.”

“Lies,” Piper says, snatching the phone. “Percy tweeted ‘honey, I think you and I should get married.’”

“He’s kidding.”

“You responded, ‘come to the UK and I’ll consider it.’”

“It’s all just some good-natured fun.”

“He responded, ‘give me a kiss?’ and you said, ‘show up alive, and then we’ll see.’”

Annabeth snickers, snatching her phone back. “You’re reading too far into this.”

“No, I’m not. You two are just in love with each other.”

“You are incorrect, actually.”

Piper raises an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? What about last week when he uploaded the video that was literally spent listing off the reasons you should marry him?”

“Publicity stunt. It got millions of views.”

“You’re in love with him.”

Annabeth pinches her fingers. “Only a little bit, but no one has to know.”

“Oh, honey, everyone knows.”

A part of her floods with warmth. Ever since he’d first left a comment on one of her videos, their friendship had blossomed. It was just what they did — uploading videos just to tease one another and accept marriage proposals. He’s probably proposed five times by this point, and Annabeth has jokingly accepted five times.

They were the unofficially-official couple as people like to put it, and it was a lovely arrangement in her opinion.

Annabeth’s phone vibrates in her hand, and when she looks down, she sees Percy telling her, bought a plane ticket. on my way babe.

“Oh god,” Piper groans, looking over Annabeth’s shoulder as another smile breaks out across Annabeth’s face. “You two disgust me.”

“That’s funny, considering you admitted that you were our biggest shipper.”

Piper gasps. “Who told you?”

“Jason told Percy who told me.”

“Betrayal.”

“Precisely.” Annabeth hums. “We should be going soon. I have to get another video up in two days and you promised you’d help me.”

“What is it this time? Writing the perfect love letter to Percy?”

“Making a shrine to Percy,” Annabeth corrects.

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was,” Annabeth says. “It was his idea.”

“Of course it was,” Piper mutters, but she’s already scooting her chair away from the table of the café and standing up. “Let’s get going then, you booger.”

The walk back to their shared apartment was filled with Piper’s rants about a certain two careless youtubers, and the video Annabeth dragged Piper to film was no different. All things considered though, it went quite well. It might as well be a shitpost, but it was interesting enough and would have to suffice.

The video did take a lot longer to film than expected, so by the time Annabeth was finally ready to go on with the day, it was almost midnight.

“This sucks,” Annabeth says, peeking out the window at the dark sky.

“It’s no big deal.” Piper stretches and yawns, and Annabeth thinks she may fall asleep right there. “London never sleeps so we can still go out.”

“You’re practically drooling already.”

“We have things to do. People to see.”

Annabeth scrunches her brows. “Who?”

“People,” Piper says ominously. As she sits up, she looks Annabeth up and down before shrugging, which doesn’t do much to help her confidence. “You look good enough. Let’s go.”

Piper barely gives Annabeth time to process what was happening before she was being dragged out the door. Realistically, Piper did give her like five minutes to grab a few things, but it felt like no time at all because Piper refused to say anything besides they were meeting up with some friends at a cozy diner in the middle of the city.

The walk there was a bit chilly, so as Annabeth tightens her long black peacoat around her body, she glances at Piper out of the corner of her eye.

“So,” Annabeth says, sniffling and rubbing her nose to soothe the sharp bite of wind. “Would you mind telling me why we’re heading to the city? We never go out late. That’s, like, our motto.”

“You looked cute today, and it would be a shame to waste that by just staying in.” Piper grabs Annabeth’s hand and laces their fingers together to swing their arms back and forth. “I must say I’m loving the white sweater and black jeans. My fashion is rubbing off on you.”

“What fashion?”

“I hate you.”

By the time they finally reach the diner, Annabeth’s fingers and toes are numb, but the view was definitely worth it. Annabeth’s surprised she hadn’t ever seen this place before after having lived here for almost four years, but it’s no surprise Piper knew of it. There were fairy lights strewn up around the outer portion of the restaurant, and there was gentle music flowing through the air. Even though it was cold, the image of this place was a drastic difference, and it melted the aching in her bones.

Piper leads Annabeth to a table outside, and Annabeth is hardly surprised to see Jason waiting for them. He stands up to give each of the girls a quick hug, before they all settle into their respective seats.

“You brought me here to be a third wheel? Is that what this is?” Annabeth says playfully as she sits.

“You and I both know that I’m the real third wheel here,” Jason says kindly. “But maybe it’s Piper, because she’s the only one here who doesn’t make videos.”

“I don’t need to because I was lucky enough to have my best friend introduce me to another youtuber,” Piper says.

“You should be thanking me for your relationship,” Annabeth tells the two of them. “Without me, you would’ve never found the love of your life.”

Jason’s eyes gleam. “And how about you? Have you found the love of your life?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“I saw the messages between you and Percy earlier,” Jason says. “It was a beautiful proposal, really.”

“I try.”

“When you meet him, you should consider eloping.”

“That’s if I meet him,” Annabeth corrects.

“Of course. My apologies.” Jason grins, and Annabeth is slightly unnerved. “You would make a cute couple.”

“How so?”

“You two are the biggest simps for each other,” Jason says.

“Told you so,” Piper chimes in.

“I’m going to leave if you two brought me here just to insult me.” Annabeth looks beside herself and her eyes focus on the empty chair. “Are we waiting for someone else?”

“I invited a friend, but I’m not sure where he is,” Jason says. “They must be running late.”

“Who is it?”

“Oh, I’m not sure if you’d know them,” he dismisses.

Piper and Jason begin talking again, but Annabeth tunes them out. If she was going to be forced to sit with stranger while Piper and Jason snogged in front of them, then she would be severely unhappy.

Annabeth doesn’t know what to expect, but she does know that she should be worried when Piper and Jason share a conspicuous glance with each other before heading off to the bar, under the excuse of getting them some drinks.

Annabeth groans, lacing her hands together on the table in front of her. She was definitely starting to regret this decision of joining Piper on her midnight adventure, not that it was much of a decision at all. She was dragged alongside her, and if she could go back in time, she would probably end up pushing Piper off a bridge to stop this utter boredom from taking over.

All things considered though, it’s not too terrible. She might be able to drink the night away and forget all this happened, and—

“Babe!”

Annabeth’s head snaps up because of the voice. It was a voice she’d recognize anywhere.

She whirls around in her chair, and right there, standing in all his glory, was Percy Jackson.

Percy holds his arms out as he approaches her, and Annabeth laughs as she stumbles up to give him a crushing hug. They stay like that for a few seconds, and it feels like it should be awkward because they’d never actually met before, but it just feels like a piece of a puzzle if fitting into place.

“What are you doing here?” Annabeth asks, grinning as she pulls away and tilts her chin to look up at him. From here, he’s a lot taller than she expected, and he looks so much better in person than on camera, which says a lot.

“I’m here for our wedding!” Percy smiles cheekily, pulling her in for another quick hug before stepping back and just looking at her. She feels warm and fuzzy under his gaze. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten.”

“Of course I haven’t,” she says, playing along. “But why are you really here?”

“I wanted to see my beautiful girlfriend.”

Annabeth bites her bottom lip, holding back a laugh. “I don’t recall agreeing to this.”

“You agreed to marry me, so I think that means we’re dating.”

“Yeah, but we both know we were messing around.”

Percy clicks his teeth, his eyes sparkling. “I don’t know. You did respond when I called you babe, so…”

“I guess I did.” Annabeth looks over at where Piper and Jason had disappeared off to. They were taking their sweet time, and suddenly Annabeth realized that it was for a reason, and that they knew all along. She doesn’t know whether to thank them or punch them. “It looks like they’re not coming back anytime soon.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “That might be because I asked them to let me have you all to myself for a while.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did.” Percy stares at her for a while, and she stares back. It feels like she’s known him for all of her life, and she never wants this moment to end. So long talking over the phone and sending messages through videos, and they were finally alone, just the two of them, and it was so much better than she could’ve imagined.

“I’m not sure what to do now,” Annabeth admits as Percy takes a step closer, like he’s done it a million times. Soon, his face is inches away from hers.

“I have an idea,” Percy tells her quietly, his green eyes vibrant in the dim lighting of the outdoor patio.

“And what’s that?”

“Go on a date with me.”

Annabeth tilts her head, lips lifting in a coy smile. “I thought we were already engaged?”

“I’m still working towards that kiss,” he says, and his smile is blinding.

A beat skips, and she can’t help herself, and then—

“Who says you have to wait?”

Annabeth doesn’t know what prompts her to step forwards, but she does anyways, and her stomach flutters when he does the same. There was just something about this situation that seems so familiar, and she trusts him, probably more than she should. But this was Percy, and she knew him. He wouldn’t hurt her.

Percy’s hands go to cup her face, his fingers gently tracing over her skin, cold in the London winter, and there is a blazing heat in her body. For a second, they look into each other’s eyes, and then both of their eyes are fluttering shut as Percy brings her face to his and kisses her sweetly.

It’s slow and gentle, and somehow, she can see a future with them. This has been building up since she first saw his kind words on her video, and it was strengthened through their twitter declarations of love and youtube proposals. She shouldn’t feel like this, but she does, and that’s okay.

He pulls away but his hands stay in place. His smile is so breathtaking, and it fits so well with the delicate snowflakes that started falling and the pretty glow of the fairy lights.

“What do you say?” Percy asks. “I’ll take you on the date of your life.”

“And then you’ll marry me?”

“What’s a date if it doesn’t end in marriage?”

Annabeth’s lips twitch up, and she brushes a strand of her blowing hair behind her ear. She really liked him, and she just knew that it would be alright. He was in Los Angeles and she was in London, and they were oceans apart, but it would be okay.

“I’m holding you to that,” she says, and so he takes her hand, and leads her on the date of a lifetime.

[lonelysoul029]

His Hufflepuff Secret ~ Two

<-Previous Chapter

_____

Year III

Y/N sits in the library with Ron, Fred and George, trying her damnedest not to laugh out loud. The twins, ever ingenious, created a potion that makes a person hiccup when they hear someone call their name. They slipped the liquid in Ron's drink earlier, and the older Weasleys haven't stopped saying his name since.

"Oh come on, Ron," She giggles when he hiccups for the umpteenth time that day, "It can't possibly be that bad."

"Easy for you to say," Ron glares at her, "You're not the one hiccuping every five seconds thanks to these two gits," he points at his older brothers who have managed to create a song that involves saying Ron's name as much as possible.

"Ron, oh Ron," Fred starts, "My dearest brother Ron,"

"Our Ron, sweet Ron," George continues.

"We're only doing it because we love you, Ron," they now say at the same time.

"Alright boys," Y/N stops laughing, "I'm sure your poor brother has had enough of your crap for today."

"Which brother?" The twins speak again at the same time. It's quite creepy actually.

She rolls her eyes at them as they give her the double Weasley smirk, daring her to say their brother's name again. She won't give them the satisfaction just yet. Y/N needs to make sure that they undo the potion's effects. "Either stop it right now, or I'll tell his girlfriend that you've pranked him once again."

"Hey! Hermione is not my girlfriend," Ron interjects.

"I never said it was Hermione, Ron" Y/N smirks, she faces the twins again, "So what'll it be, boys? Undo the effects or face the wrath of Hermione Granger?"

Fred and George look at each other, as if they wordlessly conversing. They probably are with their weird twin telekinesis. After a moment, they seem to finally come up with a verdict. "Fine, we'll fix Ron. Would you like that Ron?" George says.

"Obviously."

Fred turns to Ron, "Ready, Ron-Ron?" he asks, making his younger brother hiccup two last times. Ron sighs but nods. Fred looks back at his twin with his hand out and George hands him a small bottle containing the antidote. Immediately, Ron snatches the bottle from his brother to unscrew the cap. He downs the clear liquid in one go.

"Did it work?" Ron asks, wanting all of this to be over.

The twins don't say anything, so Y/N speaks up, "Ron?"

To the younger Weasley's relief, he doesn't hiccup at the mention of his name. "Oh thank Godric." Ron turns to his brothers who look disappointed that their fun is over, "You two better watch your backs, because I will get my revenge on you," he threatens, then gets up from his chair and gathers his books, "Right, well I best be off. Hermione's waiting for me in the common room."

"Oooooh," Y/N, Fred and George all tease Ron at the mention of his 'not' girlfriend. He gives one last glare down at the three before walking out the library.

A few minutes pass after Ron left when the twins also get up to leave. Saying something about finding their next guinea pig for a different potion this time. Y/N waves them goodbye then turns back to writing her essay.

"God, I thought those blood traitors would never leave," she hears a familiar voice say from behind her. Y/N just hums in response, her focus still on her parchment. "You spend almost all afternoon with those gingers and I can't even get a 'hello'?"

Y/N finally looks up from her work to see that Draco is now occupying the chair Ron was sitting on across from her. She puts her quill down and rests her chin on her hand, "Only people who don't insult my friends get a 'hello.'"

Draco kicks his feet up on the table with a smirk on his face, "I insulted Potter yesterday at breakfast and you still said hello to me in the halls," he says, knowing that she won't have a comeback for that. She does, though.

"You referred to him as 'the chosen one', that wasn't an insult," she snaps back.

"But I said it in an insulting tone," Draco argues. He knows he's not going to win because his argument is ridiculous, but he also knows that his nagging is annoying her because her fingers are now drumming on the wooden table, and Draco just loves getting on her case.

"I know you're trying to annoy me, Malfoy," she calmly states as she picks up her quill and writes on her parchment again. Draco's smirk drops. Y/N looks up to see his grey eyes widen in shock staring at her.

How did she know? Draco likes to think that he has perfected the art of keeping an unreadable expression on his face, but Y/N seems to see through him. He opens his mouth to say something when she speaks again.

"You're an open book, Draco Malfoy," she answers his unasked question, "And I know exactly how to read you. It's almost like I can hear your thoughts."

Draco scoffs, a bit too loudly, "Hear my thoughts, my arse."

Before she can say anything, the librarian walks up from behind Draco and smacks him on the head with a newspaper, making him rub the back of his head. "Feet off the table, young man," Y/N bites her lip to stop herself from snorting at her best friend's current situation. "And watch your language."

The boy sighs but listens to the older woman, and after seeing both of his feet hit the floor, she walks away. Y/N can't help but giggle when the librarian is out of earshot. "Oh shut up, Fawley," Draco glares at her, making her giggle even more.

"Come on, that was hilarious!"

"Ha ha, I'm glad you find my misery entertaining," Draco replies dryly.

"Yes, I really do," Y/N's hysteria soon fades away and she starts to pick up her belongings. "I'm going to go put my books back to my dorm, then I'm off to the Great Hall for dinner."

Draco stands up too, "I'll go with you."

"Alright."

They walk down the halls with a few paces between them so as to not make it obvious that they're walking together. As they reach the kitchen area, Y/N looks around to make sure no one can see her smuggling a Slytherin into the Hufflepuff common room. When the coast is clear, she whispers the password and they enter the room. No one is there, thankfully, so they head straight towards Y/N's dorm. She only has one other roommate, Hannah, who is currently residing in the hospital wing because of a quidditch accident. So Y/N's got the room all to herself for two weeks. Draco sits on the edge of her bed as she places her books on the shelf.

"Do you want to sleep over after dinner?" Y/N asks while brushing her hair into a ponytail so that it's not in her face when she eats.

"Sure. It's Saturday tomorrow so we can just hang out in your room all day, too," Draco leans on his hands behind him, watching her untangle a part of her hair

Y/N nods, "I've got your extra toothbrush and one of your shirts for you in the drawer so you don't have to go to your dorm before we go back to mine," she provides, "Unless you have something else you need from there."

"Nothing I can think of right now. If I remember something later, I can always just accio it here," Draco moves to rest his back on the headboard.

"Draco you are incredibly lazy," she laughs.

He winks at her, "I know, sweetheart."

~~~~•~~~~

Y/N wakes up to the sound of someone breathing next to her ear. She feels an arm over her waist, keeping her from getting up. That wasn't there last night. She inhaled deeply, his scent filling her senses. It's calming really, to have that expensive cologne and green apple smell surround her. She's confused though as to why Draco is on her bed, cuddling her from behind, when she distinctly remembers him falling asleep on another bed across the room last night. She glances at the clock on her nightstand, 10:28. She realises that they have slept through breakfast. Her stomach rumbles at the thought of food so she carefully lifts Draco's arm off of her.

"No, stay," Draco whines, his voice thick with sleep as he pulls his arm tighter around Y/N's waist.

"But Draco, I'm hungry," she whines back, "We've already missed breakfast so I want to go see if there's anything easy to make in the kitchen."

"You're warm, though," he says, "It's relaxing." Oh Merlin. Did I really just say those words to her? He curses himself, deciding that his half-asleep state is to blame for the slip up.

Y/N giggles, still trying to lift his arm off of her, "How about this," she pulls at his arm again, no avail, "I'll go get us some food, then we can cuddle after we eat. Sound good?"

After a moment's hesitation, Draco sighs, "Fine," he loosens his grip on her, "Hurry, though."

She's in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and combing through her hair to make herself look a bit more presentable if someone saw her. When she goes out, she finds a now-sleeping Draco on her bed. He's snoring just a bit and Y/N finds it cute that he's curled up on her bed like that. She shakes the thought away when her stomach grumbles again. She puts on her slippers and heads to the kitchen. As she's passing through the common room, she sees two people there. Cedric Diggory seems to be talking very closely with another student in a Ravenclaw sweater. Y/N rounds the couch to get to the door when she glances at the pair again to find that they aren't talking at all; they're kissing. Her eyes widen at the sight then increases her pace, wanting to get out the door as soon as possible. When she reaches the kitchen, she looks through the cabinets and finds a box of cereal. She opens the fridge to get milk then cuts up strawberries to add to the bowl. Once she's got two bowls filled, she walks back into the Hufflepuff common room. Please don't be there, please don't be there. The entrance opens up and to Y/N's relief, the pair occupying the sofa is now gone. She sighs and continues to walk to the girls' dorms.

She thinks about the two locking lips in the common room, wondering what it's like to have someone kiss her like that. She pictures it would be soft but firm, slow and gentle. The person would be holding her chin between their thumb while their other hand is on the back of her neck. She imagines that his lips taste like mint, their nose would be bumping each other. Her hand would go up to tangle her fingers in his platinum blonde hair— Wait a second. Why am I imagining Draco?

Y/N shakes her head to clear those thoughts off her mind. She reaches her dorm and carefully opens it, so as not to wake up the boy she was imagines having her first kiss with. Will you stop imagining it Y/N? To her surprise, he's already awake. Draco is sitting up on her bed, reading through her potions textbook. He looks up at her, "What took you so long?"

Oh nothing. I just unconsciously stopped in the middle of the corridor thinking about us kissing. She clears her throat, "On the contrary, I was trying to move as fast as I can to get away from Cedric making out with that Ravenclaw girl in the common room."

Draco crinkles his nose in disgust, "I know who you're talking about. It's the girl in the glasses, Cho Chang," he gets up to take one of the bowls from Y/N who is just standing awkwardly by Hannah's bed. "I heard she's got a thing for Potter too. The girl's got bad taste in men," he smirks at his own remark.

Y/N rolls her eyes, "Oh yeah? I think Cho has fantastic taste in men," she sits on her bed, cross-legged, while nursing her bowl of cereal. "I mean Cedric is an incredibly sweet person, and Harry is very kind," she defends, smirking, "And they're both not bad on the eyes either."

The Slytherin makes a fake gagging sound before turning to his best friend, sitting cross-legged on the bed as well, "If they're so great, why aren't you with them?" He questions, "Why are you hanging out with me instead?"

Y/N's mind goes blank as she stares at the strawberries floating in her bowl. Why is she here with Draco instead of being out with other guys? Guys who she can be seen in public with, not hiding and sneaking into rooms with. She thinks back to Cedric and Cho kissing on the couch. Why can't she be with someone who she can kiss in front of other people? Then her thoughts go to the image she planted in her head of her kissing Draco. She can't kiss him, let alone be seen with him. They have secret meetings in places people don't go very often because they would be judged for being friends with a rival house.

"Hello?" Draco waves a hand in front of her face, "Earth to Y/N!"

She blinks her thoughts away, "What?" Y/N looks up at Draco. His bowl already empty on the nightstand while she absentmindedly pushed around the contents of hers around.

"You didn't answer my question," he states, "You just zoned out."

"Oh yeah, uhm," she swallows, forcing a confident smile on her face, "I'm with you because you're my best friend, stupid." Y/N laughs, hoping it's enough to move away from the fact that she was lost in thought.

"Wrong."

She raises an eyebrow at him, "What do you mean 'wrong?'"

"You're wrong," he repeats, "You're hanging out with me instead of them because I am obviously much better company than Potter and Diggory," he gets up from the bed and grabs his robes. Putting them on, he walks to the mirror to smooth out any wrinkles, "And much better looking, too," Draco winks at her through the mirror.

"I would have to disagree," Y/N moves to stand behind him, a hand on his shoulder while maintaining eye contact through their reflection. She whispers in his ear, "Have you seen Harry in those glasses? He looks extremely attractive," it's her turn to wink at him. She kisses him on the cheek right after then turns to finish her cereal, completely missing the way Draco's flustered expression.

This girl is going to be the death of me, that's for sure.

~~~~•~~~~

The rest of their Saturday consists of sitting on the alcove by Y/N's bedroom window. Draco has his back against the wall while Y/N leans on his chest, reading her favourite muggle book. His arms are around her waist as they talk, well, Draco doing the talking, mostly just to piss her off and distract her. Her head fit perfectly in the space between his shoulder and neck and he can smell her shampoo. It's got a fresh cucumber scent to it. It's this easy, he thinks. To be sitting with her, not a care in the world about being in different houses. If only we could be like this in front of everyone.

The sun is down before they know it. Y/N fell asleep some time in the afternoon, her grip on the book loosened. Luckily, Draco was reading along when the book fell from her grasp so he knows the page she was at. He picked it up and fit her bookmark on the page. Draco placed the book down on the dresser next to them, then placed a kiss on the top of her head. Soon, sleep was pulling at him and he closed his eyes, sighing in contentment with his best friend in his arms.

~~~~•~~~~

Draco is running through the dark forest. He has been running for what seems like hours, trying to get away from the faceless man in the dark cloak. He looks behind him to see that she isn't following him anymore. He desperately calls out her name, but he gets no answer. He decides that maybe she is a fast runner and got ahead of him and he just didn't notice. Yes, he thinks, she's faster than me.

He turns to the direction he was running before, but freezes at the sight in front on him. The faceless man is floating two feet in front of him. Black smoke under his tall figure. The ends of his robes are tattered and he laughs the kind of laugh that sends chills down one's spine. The man is terrifying, yes, but that isn't the reason why Draco feels like his heart has been ripped out of his chest.

Y/N is being held by the collar of her blood-stained shirt. The faceless man laughs again. "You could've saved her Draco. She's dead, and it's all because of you."

"N-no, no. It c-can't be," Draco stutters, "She was right behind me! I p-protected her from th-the attacks and-"

"But you couldn't protect her from me," slowly, features started to appear on the man's face, "No one is safe from me, Draco. Not this pathetic little girl,"  the man drops Y/N's lifeless body on the ground. Draco tries to move towards her, but vines that seem to come out from nowhere, tangle around his feet and legs to keep him from escaping. "Not your parents," the man now has all of his facial features, he doesn't look human. At least not completely, "And not you," he comes at Draco with a wicked grin and his wand raised. "But don't worry, boy, I've got plans for you," he waves his wand at the boy then all Draco can see is a bright green light.

He is lying on his back, at least he thinks he is. He feels numb, is all he knows. What is he talking about? Draco wonders as the light gradually fades into black. What does this have to do with my parents? Why did he kill Y/N? Why couldn't I save her? Why, why, why...

Draco wakes, breathing heavy and a thin sheen of sweat on his body. Another nightmare? Really? He has been having a lot of those lately. Just the night before, he had one, so he moved to sleep next to Y/N because being in close proximity to her calms him down.He rubs at his eyes and looks at his surroundings. He realises that Y/N is gone. Draco starts to panic, What if it wasn't a nightmare at all? He sits up on the alcove, and before he can dive further into a dark spiral, he hears the shower running and Y/N's voice humming a tune. He sighs in relief. Draco looks at the time. 9:26. He still has seven hours before he needs to go to quidditch practice. He decides to get ready for the day so he writes a note for Y/N on the steamed-up bathroom mirror, saying he's going to his dorm. He signs the note 'D' and leaves a smiley face next to it.

When he gets inside his room, the first thing he notices is that it's colder than it usually is. Draco's eyes flick up to his window. He can see a dark figure floating in the water, similar to the man in his nightmare. His heartbeat picks up and his breathing quickens. He reaches for his wand, ready to protect himself from what ever creature is on the other side of the glass. When it floats closer to his window, Draco realises that it's just a grey squid. It's tentacles flowing with the water like a cloak. He sighs deeply, What am I doing? It was just a nightmare, nothing more. Right?

Right.

_____

Next Chapter->

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Seen ✓ - 3

Pairing: Sam x Reader Warnings: cursing, a bit of self depreciation Word Count: 2.2k Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam. Beta: None

Part 1  -  Part 2 Masterlist

Chapter 3: for the love of god, explain this

Sam Winchester lies awake at three in the morning, under foreign, scratchy sheets, stubbornly not tearing his eyes from the cracked, ugly wallpaper on the ceiling. A lot of things are happening and his brain is going about a million miles an hour, spinning endlessly, Castiel, Dean returning from hell, the stress of the hunting life, the current case and… Y/n. Wonderful, smart, talented, funny Y/n.

It’s been a while since someone has made him excited. He keeps bumping into her in his mind, keeps finding thoughts of her lying around, eager to distract him. He catches himself wanting to text her about every stupid thing that happens in his day, much like she sometimes does. She’s been the only thing that makes his heart a little lighter, and it’s such a strange feeling, someone’s presence being this uplifting.

He was suspicious of her at first. A strange woman (at least she claims to be one, he forgets he’s never actually… seen her) asking about him, his profession, and then about… ghosts? A bit random, too specific, Sam recognizes he got defensive. But the way she spoke afterwards… he doesn’t know.  His instinct tells him to trust her.

Amidst his thoughts, he doesn’t remember picking up his phone, but it’s just one of those nights, he needs someone to talk to- or rather, wants Y/n specifically. A thought he chooses not to dwell on.

are you awake? I can’t sleep.

I actually am. Lucky you.

Sam smiles. Lucky me, he thinks.

isn’t it like 4 am for you?

Tell me about it. No luck sleeping either.

happen to you a lot?

Yeah.

I happen to have anxiety induced insomnia.

Working at a bar also helps fuck up your sleeping schedule as well.

You?

i’m sorry :/

i don’t get much sleep either. something always keeps me up.

Yeah, I get that.

Where in the Great Unites States of America are you today?

hahah it’s Oregon today.

it’s the ugliest motel room i’ve ever been in.

Ooh

Do I ask about your case or is it confidential?

it’s confidential but i’ll tell you that i am investigating a bunch of strange murders.

You’re investigating serial killers?? That’s so fucking dope.

something like that yeah.

how was your day?

Oh, you know. The usual.

College assignments, a shift at the bar. I went out with a friend I hadn’t seen in a while.

I need to clean my house desperately.

I also nearly burned my kitchen down trying to cook lunch. Emmy and I ended up eating some lazy-ass spaghetti, because pasta is the only thing I can cook, apparently.

hahahah what were you making?

You’re gonna laugh if I tell you.

well now you must.

Ugh, do I?

come onnn

It was eggs, okay? I was just trying to make eggs.

AHAHAHAHAHAHAH

I TOLD YOU YOU’D LAUGH AT ME

HOW DID YOU BURN EGGS?!

LISTEN, OKAY

I NEVER SAID I WAS A GOOD COOK

HAHAHAHAH

Sam laughs over his phone, as silently as he can, so as to not wake Dean up. He turns on his other side and realizes his cheeks hurt from smiling, and it’s a feeling he’s missed.

Yeah, yeah, laugh, culinary genius. Not all of us can be perfect.

i never said i was a culinary genius

but at least i don’t go near stoves if i don’t have to.

Well, it’s not like I can afford every-day takeout (or like that shit is healthy, even if I could) and someone has to cook for my sister while she’s in school

you have siblings?

and yeah you’re right i didn’t think like that sorry.

It’s okay.

And yeah, my sister, Emily.” Emmy”

oooh i thought emmy was your friend.

Nono, it’s my sister. She’s 17.

can i ask you a personal question?

Shoot

why do you have to take care of her? are your guys’ parents not around?

you don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable with that.

Well, it’s a bit complicated.

My parents’ marriage kind of fell apart when I was around 10. They tried to fix things by adopting a kid- Emily. For a while that worked.

When I was 16 my mom took off and dad took care of us for 2 years almost. He really dedicated himself to us.

He worked his antique shop and supported us. For two years, I didn’t see him spend a penny on himself.

But I ended up having to take care of Em when he passed. I was freshly 18, so I could take care of her as a guardian.

shit i’m so sorry.

It’s okay, honestly.

I mean, it didn’t use to be, and it was hell for a while.

But we made it.

i admire your positivity.

I try :)

i also love that you put smiley faces in your text messages.

Shouldn’t have said that, now I’ll always think about it before I do it

hahah

Sam bites his lip. What the hell is happening? They’re… flirting. Sorta. And it’s nice- better than nice. Fuck.

What about you?

you mean what’s my relationship with my parents?

Well, when you put it like that it sounds stupid. It wasn’t what I was asking either.

What I meant was, how’s your life right now. How’s the family business. You can pick which you wanna answer.

i don’t mind either honestly.

as for my parents my mom died when I was 6 months old. my dad passed away about a year and a half ago.

Jesus, I’m so sorry Sam

I don’t know what to say. It can’t have been easy. Losing a parent never is.

it wasn’t but as you said we’re trying to sort of find our footing with Dean. we’ve had our ups and downs.

Yeah I understand that.

Do you wanna talk about it?

right now not really. I mean there’s not much to say about it.

i kinda wanna forget about it. thanks though.

Alright.

So how’s the family business?

Does it feel good to be paid to be Sherlock Holmes?

crap. but we’re doing our best.

for the record i don’t get paid nearly enough for the shit i have to do.

Hahaha, hang in there.

Dean still refuses to come get his phone?

yeah. he says you can keep it.

Tell him to take care of his devices from now on, this one was battered beyond recognition.

duly noted.

The conversation continued until well after the sun rose. Sam had officially accepted this night to be sleepless, and Y/n was good company. Somehow she took his mind off of everything that was bugging him, made him, if momentarily, forget about it, and he truly loved that about her. The back and forth tended to flow easily between them, and he couldn’t get enough of the chemistry he had with this practical stranger.

Sleepless or not, this night was a good one, after she entered the picture.

-

The glow on her skin is blue-ish and soft, combatting the one from the fairy lights above them. Laptop absolutely not low in volume, couch dipping under two bodies, slumped together, legs leaning against one another, soft flannel pants and droopy eyes. Emily’s hair is out of its usual half-up hairstyle, exploding with volume and bright, firey color, flowing onto the back of the couch.

Jon Snow is yelling on the screen, and Y/n is completely ignoring him, constantly checking her inactive phone and the way the screen doesn’t light up with Sam’s name. Every time she feels disappointed, she tries to quell the relentless thoughts of the possibility of him being completely over her.

Damn it.

“Do you have a boyfriend or a girlfriend I’m not aware of or something?” Emily mutters dryly, half-hearted but gentle teasing. Y/n sputters.

“Huh?”

“’Cause you keep checking your phone, and as far as I know you don’t have any friends.”

“HEY,” deeply offended, Y/n places her hand over her heart, glaring at her sister. “Excuse you!” she exclaims, “Connor? Ashley? Lydia?”

“Yeah, a neighbor and two college students that you haven’t talked to in like, what, two weeks? What a social butterfly.”

“Okay first off,” Y/n ignores the screaming and fighting on the screen and shifts to look at her sister. “Stop tracking my socializing.” Em scoffs.

“C’mon, bear, spill.” Bottom lip pouted. She pauses the episode, turning to face her older sister. “Who are they and when can I meet them?” A devilish smile, teasing like only a younger sister can, curling the right corner of her lip.

“He’s not my boyf-“

“AHA! So there is someone! I knew it!”

“I’ve known him for like- what, three weeks? Nothing is going on! I barely know the guy!” Y/n fiddles with her hair and huffs, holding back a smile.

“Where’d you meet him? Is he hot? What’s he like?!” Poking her sister’s thigh continuously, she grins wide, excited. “C’mon, you’re like, no fun.”

“The thing is… I didn’t. Meet him, I mean.” Eyebrows furrow.

“Uh…” Emily purses her lips. “I’m … not following.”

It takes all of five minutes for Y/n to explain to her sister all about her crazy adventure, the lost phone, the brother, Sam. The girls munch on leftover garlic spaghetti, talking about the stranger on the other side of Y/n’s screen.

“He’s just… different? I don’t know- I just, I’m intrigued I guess. He’s mysterious and hilarious. The type of guy we’d hang out with. Why pass it up?”

“Just hang out?” Emily wiggles her eyebrows. Y/n shoves her.

“It’s really not like that.”

“I don’t know, Y/n, he doesn’t necessarily sound just friendly to me.” Y/n won’t lie and say she hasn’t thought about it. She’s a romantic after all, and what a wonderful, movie-like love story would it be for them to fall in love and march into the sunset?

But she recognizes this is the romantic side of her picking up speed on a subject that definitely isn’t for her to decide alone. There’s a second participant in all of this, and he needs to do more than half the work by liking her. She knows it’s no easy feat. A bitter dab of paint dissolves in her chest, because why would he like her? She’s nothing quite special. She’s just a bartender, a college student, a boring, normal girl, painfully mundane, painfully boring. He’s brilliant, kind and sweet, a private investigator, he travels all the time, he’s the most interesting guy she’s ever met for crying out loud. Why would he ever give her a chance?

“I doubt it, Em,” is what Y/n decides to say, because there’s no way she can explain exactly what she’s thinking.

“No, no, you’re doing that thing again.” A hum in question falls from the older Andrews’ lips. “The thing where you put yourself down for bullshit reasons. He’d be lucky to have you.” Y/n wants to roll her eyes. “Hey,” a snap of Emily’s fingers in front of Y/n’s face to catch her attention. “I will literally slap you. You’re smart, funny, kind. He’d be fucking lucky to have you, and if you don’t believe it, I’m gonna beat some sense into you. Stop putting my sister down.”  Y/n doesn’t have anything good to say to that, so instead she lets out a huffed breath of a laugh and sits back on the couch.

“Now,” Emily leans over her own crossed legs and grabs her phone from the rickety coffee table. “Did you Google him?”

“Why the heck would I Google him?”

“It’s the 21st century, Y/n, gosh. Are you at all familiar with internet stalking?” Y/n watched pebbled coffee brown eyes get illuminated by the phone screen, freckles nowhere near as bright as they can be, because she hasn’t gone out into the sunlight today. Emily is gorgeous. Y/n is sometimes jealous, but also genuinely admires her younger sister. “What’s his name?”

“Sam Winchester.”

There’s typing, and then silence.

“Y/n…” And the warning tone on the younger one’s voice completely throws her off.

“What? What is it?” A phone screen is thrust in her face.

Mail fraud, credit card fraud, grave desecration, armed robbery, kidnapping, three counts of first-degree murder, and breaking and entering, she reads. Winchester brothers Sam and Dean, disappeared, considered dead.

“What the fuck,” she mutters under her breath, completely horrified at the chance that this is real and the universe isn’t playing some comic joke on her, creating another pair of Winchester brothers called Sam and Dean who, instead of chasing murderers, are the murderers.

She scrolls lower and sure enough, there they are. Mug shots, but more specifically, the guy from the dating app, smouldering cheekily into the camera –a real blue steel-, holding a police station name on a black plaque, sitting at close to six feet and two. Then the younger one, less joyful and sassy, more serious and puppy-eyed. Sam. Close to what was described to her, it’s all there. Pointy nose, sharp jawline, curly brown hair with a growing, swoopy fringe, pulled behind his ears. It’s him. There’s no way, the coincidences are too many.

“Bear…” Emily stares at Y/n’s shocked face, gaze empty and out of it. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into?”

Immediately, Y/n grabs her phone.

Sam

His reply is instantaneous.

hey y/n

i was just thinking about you

what’s up?

Please for the love of God.

Explain this.

She sends him the mugshot, photographed from the screen of her sister’s phone.

shit.

-

Part 4

A/N: Tell me what you thought? How the hell does he even explain this?

I realized I haven’t been tagging my forever taglist like a MORON, so just, sorry, I’ll start now. 

Forevers:   @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester​ @deanssweetheart23​ @nostalgic-uncertainty​ @mogaruke​ @superseejay721517​ @lady-hawkguy​ @thosefeelsarereal​ @superwholockmarauder​  @justiceiswater​ @petra-arkanian-1497​ @heyitscam99​ @danijimenezv​ @aj-reuth  @unicornblood4ever @mystriee​ @sadist-fangirl23 @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @superrandomnatural​ @altosaxplayer098 @winter-moons @hunterswearingplaid​ @novaddictx​ @choosemyname​  @live-like-a-girl​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @bowtomytenderaddiction​  @elara98azalea​ @lemondropirwin​ @emmagolden4118​ @glitchcypher @calaofnoldor​ @paradoxical-sleep​ @narynechan @canwenotdothis​ @suicidepanda07​ 

Sam Taglist

@kymberlytorres​ @theboykingsamwinchester​ @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes​ @captainmarvelcorps​ @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away​ @nellachain​

 Seen Taglist  @shutupiminlooove​ @sammysgirl1997​ @kymberlytorres​ @bambi95-blog​ @demonic-meatball​ @thekarliwinchester​ @littlekay15​ @li-m-ii​  @thinspo-isuppose​ @carryonmywaywarddemigodwitch @ellen-reincarnated1967 @moonlitskinwalker​ @marichromatic​ @illuminatus42​ @lazy-author​ @mirandaaustin93​ @hauntedsiriel​ @pilaxia​ @devilgirlsarah​ @nobodys-baby-now​ @captiveties​ @calamitychaos @midiocris @wordswillscream​ @burningforsam​ @aiofheavenandhell​

[potatosoldier]

Are you still there? /Part 6/

I sat quietly in our barrack in Camp Shanks, New York City. It was so surreal that tomorrow we would be going to set our foot out from our home country. It made all of this so sickeningly real 

Skip who had just been laughing with Penk and Don, decided to plop next to me onto my bunk.

 “Ahh!”

And in the process bump me onto the floor. The shocked look on his face was too hilarious. “Sorry, sorry, fuck sorry Bambi”, he mutters as he scurries up and helps me once again to plop next to him.

I giggle softly and shake my head. “Don’t worry Skip”,I pat his head gently as he too chuckles. Then he turns more serious and makes it clear that he wants to have a more private conversation. We both turn so that we are on our sides facing each other, with our hands under our heads like sleeping children. Luckily being private wasn’t that hard in the noise the men were making. 

“you seemed pretty bummed about getting the pass to the city”, he starts softly. “I mean you don’t drink, and you usually spend the free time in the base anyway. I’m just curious to what was so special now?”, He finishes. I sigh. I could lie to him and make up a believable story about how I wanted to see the city before stepping out, or then I could be true to him the way he has always been to me. 

“I was going to spend time with my husband”, I whisper. His eyes widen at my confession. “He’s here?”, he whispers urgently. I nod, my heart racing so hard it feels like it’s on run to my mouth. I gulp and reach into my shirt where lies a ring on a chain with my cross. And on the ring there is a small engraving of my husbands name. 

I gently take the chain off and pass the ring to him. He takes a little time to inspect it and get his eyes work in the bad lighting. Then his eyes widen and mouth opens. I quickly jump up and slam my hand onto his mouth. 

“What the hell are you two doing?”, comes the voice of George Luz. I turn sharply and grab my ring away from Skip. “Talking”, I answer quickly. He just raises his brows and blows out some smoke. Then makes a face and nods. I turn back to Skip with a serious expression and mouth: “No ONE”

He just grins and smiles. “Not gonna have my Bambi thrown to the wolves”, he says tenderly and boops my nose. I breath out and smile back. It felt good to let it out. Skip was so dear to me, it always felt so wrong to keep lying to him. 

It also felt very odd to be sleeping with the men. I was now officially put into their barracks. Sink’s orders: “You’re familiar now, safe to start blending in.” And it was true, I felt more in touch with the men now. Even if Bill laughed at me because I was too scared to come down from the top bed of a bunk bed. Which lead to Bull gently lifting me down:

“There we go ma’am safely on the ground”

“Please, if I ever get a daughter, let them marry a gentleman with your manners”

I take a hold of Don’s watch and see it’s already 7.30. Shoot, I need to find Joe. “Joe!”, I shout and in my turn plop down onto his bed, like the true lady I am sitting with my posture perfect and ankles crossed. 

“Ye ready to go, Bambi?”, he asks and I nod. He slowly gets up and stretches his back. “Well off with us then”. And so he starts singing once again. A strangely pleasant and soothing sound.

I had asked Joe to escort me to the officers barracks tonight. I wanted to see Dick before we leave. If this was the last time I saw him, I didn’t want it to be just a brief tender moment. 

Once we made it to Dick’s barrack, he was already sitting on the steps with his garrison cap on and the dress greens too. I was still in my skirt, but the cap and the hobby jacket were long forgotten. 

“Thank you, Joe”, Dick nods to Joe as a dismissal. “My pleasure lieutenant”, Joe smiles and takes off. I turn to my husband with a tender grin. 

“I’ve missed you”, I whisper and put my hand on his abdomen. Just to soothe me that he’s actually there. 

“We’ve been together most of the day”; he chuckles. I shake my head still smiling. “Not like we used to be”, I whisper a little strained. His brows furrow as he brushes my hair behind me ear. He then sighs and cups my face kissing me longingly. 

His lips are always so, so warm and soft. The warmth and softness wasn’t the concrete feeling maybe, but it was the feeling that brushed my heart. I didn’t notice the tears streaming down my face before he pulled back. My hands were still around his waist, and his now cupping my neck. 

“Don’t cry, darling, not right now”, he whispers and kisses my tears away gently. “We should probably go a little further, someone could walk here any minute”, he then adds. 

I nod and give him a small kiss onto his adam’s apple, before moving to grasp his arm. Moments like this reminded me so much of our first meeting, well first time we actually got the words out of our mouths. 

3rd of May 1936

It was an early morning as Sonja Savolainen was smiling and singing in front of a group of young girls who were singing along with her. They all had their hymnals and catechisms out and smiles on their faces.

Sonja was only 18 and now substituting her aunt as a Sunday school teacher. She was a young, timid girl with a sharp head on her shoulders. Teaching the small girls during the Sunday service was something she thrived on. She was always very lonely with the people her age, not really having the will to socialize, the courage chat and having a strange accent to go and to top that a strong interest in education and research, had quickly left her the odd one out. 

Her mother had always said that she is too curious for her own good, but Sonja never saw it as a flaw. She wanted to learn more about everything, and she dreamed of a husband who would support her and be ready to built a whole corner of the world just for them. 

She was as pure and proper as a young lady could be. She worked hard in her parents farm, she rarely cursed and tutored children. All in all, she was a kind human being. But with the standards she set for herself, she ended up being self-destructive. 

“Alright, alright, children. We can sing more next week, I will still be here. Ms. Miller will come back soon, I promise”, she grins. All the eight girls were so sweet, and such dedicated little things. There was this one girl Lena, who had hard time reading, but Sonja promised to tutor her on Friday nights while she still was in Lancaster. In a months time she would be going back to Ham Lake, Minnesota. 

Slowly the girls get picked up by their parents. Sonja getting numerous hugs from the children and thanks from grateful mothers and fathers. And bless Lena’s mother who had brought her a small piece of raisin bread as thanks for her teaching. 

Now only ones left in the room were Sonja and small six-year-old Ann Winters. “Ann, darling, isn’t your mother picking you up?”,Sonja asks softly and kneels next to the still brightly smiling girl. Ann cutely shows her teeth as she giggles. “No, Ms.Sonja. my big brother will come though, he’s probybly lost.” Sonja smiles and almost giggles at the way the girl pronounces probably. 

“Well we shall wait for him, I’ll stay with you until he finds his way. Maybe you can draw him a map for the next time?”,she chuckles. 

“ohh, It can be like a treasure map, ‘cept the treasure is me”, Ann giggles making Sonja’s heart warm with her adorable little idea. 

“What a sweet treasure you are”, she says and taps the little girls nose. Their chat is interrupted by a knock on the door. Sonja quickly rises and goes to open it. 

“Hello, you...m-must be Ann’s brother”, Sonja almost whispers the last part as she looks at the man before her. There stands a tall, red-headed man with the softest blue eyes. Sonja bites her lip, he was stunning. 

Richard almost as red as his hair, as he looks at the woman. He was never the most confident with girls and he hadn’t expected his sister’s Sunday school teacher to be a pretty young lady. 

“I-I am, ma’am. Richard Winters”, he says and offers his hand. Sonja takes it smiling softly “Sonja Savolainen, please come in”, she almost whispers again. His hand is so warm and big, in contrast to her own small and as her brother said it, delicate, but chubby hands. 

Ann almost screams as she sees Richard. Richard grins and helps his sister get dressed and takes her catechism for safety keeping. “Dick, imma make you a big big map, and you will find big big me!”, she giggles enthusiastically. Sonja’s heart pumps so fast as she looks at the man. He is so calm so soothing, at least from the five seconds she’s interacted with him. 

“Forgive me ma’am for keeping you waiting, is there anything I could help with?”, he asks as he takes Ann’s hand and tries to keep her from jumping to the roof. Sonja really can’t stop her heart from jumping like Ann. 

“oh, no no , Ann is a very well behaved girl. It was a pleasure”,she says and starts to gather her own things. “off you two go, I can manage”, she finishes. Richard smiles at her softly. His own heart beating so fast that he cannot get the words to of “thank you, truly” out from his mouth. 

“Goo’bye Ms.Sonja!” Ann says and waves. Richard smiles and offers his free hand to shake again. “Thank you ma’am, we-we will probably see each other again”, he gulps. Sonja bites her lip again and takes his hand. 

“Lets hope so”, she says and then blushes blood red. Why did she have to say that. My god, why did she have to be so forward. Richard takes one look at her warm chocolate eyes again, nods and then takes off with his little sister. 

The moment their eyes had met, their souls were bound. 

Present

I grin stupidly at the memory. We finally find a dark corner where we can sit and talk in peace. We take a seat on this big rock with our arms still wrapped together. 

“You alright?”, he whispers as he looks at my grin. I nod and cup his cheek with my free hand. “You seem to be awfully in your head tonight”, he then adds. 

“Just thinking of you”, I answer and giggle as he still after all this years manages to blush. “Do you think that the lot we were looking at could be free in a couple years?”, I suddenly ask. He shrugs.

“If we get enough money from here, we can start making an offer”, he says quietly. “But we still need some money to built the house, so we’d still have to live in the barn.” I can see the pain in his eyes as he says those words. 

I smile at him tenderly now stroking his brow and take his garrison cap off. “I don’t really care, the barracks are even more uncomfortable. And in the barn I’ll have you”, I try to soothe. He smiles a little strained as he seems too to be deep in thought. 

“I did carry you over that threshold”, he says. I give him a sound kiss. “yes, you did”, I grin. 

Then his face turns grim. “And next time I carried you we were both covered in your blood”, he swallows. My grin fades and the tears try to gather again. I shake my head and kiss him softly again. I leave my face so close to his that our noses are touching. “I’m still here, Richie, and no one is taking me away”, I whisper. He presses his forehead against mine strongly and closes his eyes. 

He then presses his lips to mine with urgency. He maneuvers me so that I’m sitting sideways on his lap, his hands firmly supporting my waist. I deepen the kiss and press as close to him as physically possible with our clothing on. His other hand goes to cup the back of my head as I tangle my hands into his fire red hair. 

It feels so good to kiss him, to feel his arms around me. But it’s torture, because I want him, I need him. And this was only stoking the already existing fire. 

 When he pulls away I can see his pained face. 

“I-I need you, but I can’t do this. Not like this”, he says his voice rough, his bedroom voice. I can feel him against me. It all makes me so needy that I almost feel ashamed. It would, if I didn’t love this man as a part of my soul. 

And that’s how we sit. For an hour and a half. Trying to calm ourselves, softly talking, kissing and praying. 

@iilovemusic12us​

[shyneanon]

I don't entirely know the details either. It could be a debt of some sort (maybe he stole some donuts from her lol), or just an random dislike of him. Idk, I just have a feeling a lot of the UF cast have a mutual loathing of Fell XDD

Splynter gave me a prompt about UF Sans having to go speak to Muffet. I knew they disliked each other, but didn’t really know the details of their dynamic, so I  asked. Honestly I agree, I feel like most of the Underfell cast just hates Sans. Which makes sense, considering pretty much everyone seems to love Sans in Undertale. Kind of reversed.

I’m not... sure how accurately I wrote UF Muffet, but I tried. I hope you like it!

---

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit.

Sans stood outside of the door to Muffet’s, feeling countless beads of sweat running down his forehead. Sure, they were on the surface now. He was… pretty sure she wouldn’t hurt him.

But there weren’t really any guarantees.

And besides, even if she didn’t hurt him, she would find some way to make his life miserable. He just needed to get in and back out as fast as possible. Why couldn’t Boss have done this?! He’d asked, but apparently Boss had taken that as a “Sans needs to learn to not be such a fucking wimp all the time.” He wasn’t a wimp! This was Muffet they were talking about! And she hated him! Him specifically! She would listen to Boss, at least a little bit…. Ugh. There was no point in stalling. He just needed to go in already.

He forced himself to place his hand on the door handle and push it open, rushing inside before he could change his mind.

The bell attached to the door made a little jingling sound as the door shut behind him, and he froze immediately. Muffet was right at the counter, wiping it down. She hadn’t noticed him yet.

“I’m afraid we just closed,” she began, but immediately paused after turning her head and seeing who had just entered the store. Sans felt himself start to sweat again and looked away.

“Hi, how are ya?” He tried to say it casually, but didn’t make eye contact. He didn’t want her to think he was being disrespectful.

She gasped, an utterly false gasp of joy. “Oh, Sans! How are you? It’s been so long!”

An army’s worth of spiders scuttled down from the counter and surrounded him in a semicircle.

“Too long.”

She giggled. Sans could feel himself shaking a little. It’s fine. She won’t hurt me. She knows Boss would kill her if she hurt me, even if it is against the law. Reminding himself that his brother really did care made him feel a bit better.

“What’s the matter? Go ahead and tell me what you’re here for, hm?”

He managed. “I got some’a yer money I owe ya.”

“Oh! Really?”

He nodded vigorously, pulling out the cash from his pocket. At the sudden movement, the spiders instinctively moved forward, but relaxed when they saw that he meant no harm.

“Oh! How lovely!” She looked down at something he couldn’t see behind the counter.

God no.

“Why don’t you go grab it, pet?”

There were several snarling sounds and Muffet’s horrible pet crawled over the counter and over to Sans. It opened its drooling mouth and displayed its sharp teeth. Making sure to barely hold the cash between the tip of his thumb and index fingers, Sans held it out and let the pet grab it, flinching when it bit down. Thankfully, his bones were untouched.

“Aww! It likes you so much!”

Just make this end, dammit….

“Why don’t you give it a few pats, hmm?”

“H… huh?” Sans felt himself start to sweat again. He smiled nervously. “I mean… I would, but I, uh--”

“It will be sad if you don’t!” She flashed him a smug smile. “And I’ll be very upset if you make it sad.”

ffffffffff

“R… right,” he said, and reached out. It flinched, which made him flinch, but he eventually patted its head. It started to growl, but he knew better than to stop, so he just continued and prayed that it wouldn’t decide to bite his hand off.

“Aww. It enjoys being pet so much! You can stop now.”

He immediately withdrew his hand, shoving it in its pocket, and the pet scurried back over to Muffet and handed her the cash. She started to flip through it.

“Well! Finally, we…”

She trailed off, counting the money again, and Sans started to shake once more. Had the pet swallowed some of the cash? Please no.

Her eyes went from the money to him.

“This is only half of your owed amount,” she said, her voice riddled with distaste.

“Y… Yeah.”

All five of her eyes narrowed as she stood up completely straight. “I thought I told you not to come back until you had all of my money, Sans.”

OK, time to completely cast aside his pride.

“I know!” he said. “I’m sorry! I wanted tah wait till I had it all, but Boss--”

“Hmmm, or wait forever?”

“N-- no, I was savin’ it up, but we had ‘n agreement an’ I didn’t wanna--”

“You know,” she interrupted, although he hesitantly tried to continue blabbering. “I just realized my pet hasn’t had any food since lunch.”

The pet, which was still standing on the counter, turned and stared at him with its beady eyes. He tried not to look too afraid. Technically, he could annihilate Muffet and her pet if he wanted, but he didn’t want anybody to know about what he was capable of.

“That’s illegal,” he said. “Yer shop’ll get shut down.”

“Oh trust me,” she said, “I can make sure no one pins it on me.” A bit of a manic smile. “It’s not as if they’ll have a body as evidence.”

“My bro’ll know you did it, he’ll kill ya.”

“Mmm. Your brother is only so strong.”

That may as well have been an insult, considering the Underground’s culture. Sans didn’t think before speaking-- a bad habit he often suffered from. “Shuddup, my brother’s stronger than you’ll ever be!”

A moment of silence as they both realized what he’d just said. They just stared at each other. Sans started to panic. He didn’t want to shortcut right in front of somebody. She was going to let that stupid pet eat him and--

No, the door was right behind him. He could run! Cowardly, sure, and embarrassing, but he’d be alive. He turned-- only to find someone towering over him.

“WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?”

“Boss!” Sans practically yelled in relief. His brother raised a brow at him, but didn’t say anything.

“Oh!” said Muffet. She suddenly looked nervous. Only so strong, my ass. “Hello, Papyrus! Your lovely brother here was just paying me some of his debt. I’m quite appreciative!”

“AS YOU SHOULD BE,” said Papyrus stiffly. He must have seen Muffet’s sadistic smile through a window. Sans turned back around, giving Muffet a smug smile of his own when his brother wasn’t looking. How the tables have turned, huh?

She kept her fake smile plastered on her face, and her attention on Papyrus. “We just now closed, but you and I are always such good friends! Would you like something? It’s on the house! I made cupcakes just a few hours ago, they’re still--”

“NO,” said Papyrus, “WE ARE NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR SECOND-RATE FOOD.”

She looked like she’d just been slapped in the face, she was so horrified. Sans saw his chance and sauntered up to the counter, the spiders on the floor scuttling out of the way.

“I’ll take some,” he said, giving her a massive, shark-toothed grin.

One of her eyes twitched.

“I mean, ya did say I’m real lovely, right? ‘N we’re all such good friends.”

“... Of course,” she said, though the murderous rage radiating off of her was quite palpable. “Anything! What would you like?”

“Ya said ya made cupcakes?”

“Yes, I did in fact do that.” She pointed at six cupcakes immaculately decorated with clean frosting.

“Nice. I’ll take all six.”

“All six? I didn’t say you could have...” She stopped, looking over in Papyrus’s direction, and her grin became somehow more forced. “... I mean, of course, yes! Six cupcakes coming right up!”

It was almost like she had to force her limbs to grab the cupcakes, put them into a box, and then hand them to Sans without asking for any pay.

“Aw geez, Muffet, yer always such a great friend,” he said, beaming maliciously up at her.

“Always. You two take care now!”

“See ya,” he said, and headed for the door. Papyrus said nothing, just held the door open for him. Once he’d left, Papyrus followed.

“YOU KNOW I ONLY LET YOU TAKE SIX CUPCAKES BECAUSE I SAW THAT SHE WAS THREATENING YOU DESPITE HAVING THE MONEY.”

“Yeah, thanks fer saving my ass.”

“LANGUAGE! DON’T SPEAK LIKE A BARBARIAN, SANS!”

“Sure.” Sans opened up the box, grabbed a cupcake, and began stuffing his face. “These are so fuckin’ good,” he said through a full mouth.

Papyrus sighed with exasperation.

He then held out a hand. Immediately understanding, Sans handed him a cupcake.

“Ya didn’t mean, it right? When ya said her food was second-rate?”

“OF COURSE I DIDN’T!” said Papyrus as he carefully unwrapped the cupcake. “HER PASTRIES ARE AMAZING! BUT SHE WAS THREATENING YOU! SHE DESERVED TO FACE CONSEQUENCES, EVEN IF KILLING HER ISN’T AN OPTION!”

Sans was too absorbed in his sweets to reply.

“... I’LL ADMIT, WATCHING HER SQUIRM WAS QUITE SATISFYING.”

“Yeah,” said Sans, “it was hilarious.” His smile faltered. “You’ll, uh, probably need tah take the second half of th’ debt to ‘er when ya get it. She’ll… prob’ly kill me if I try tah give it to her.”

“... THAT’S PROBABLY TRUE, YES. I’LL DELIVER IT.”

Cool.

Sans shoved another cupcake into his mouth.

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian season 2 ep 1 AGAIN! it’s the rewatch folks

- The entire last season reminder/intro scene is kind of clunky and we’re-hitting-you-over-the-head-with-this, but I think it’s important to note that it’s probably meant for the vast majority of people who watched this stuff once a wholeass year ago, and not for me, the crazy person who watched each episode at least five times lol

- 

I like the way mando & bb walk from darkness into brief light and back into darkness here... the directors keep finding such cool ways of using the armour cinematically, there must be some lighting considerations to be made when your main character is essentially a walking disco ball. I enjoy the mood of this planet too -- the distant lights, the way the sky isn’t quite dark like there’s a city providing some light pollution nearby (it’s a bit clearer as he walks further into the... town? that it’s not just sunset, the sky is lit up weirdly) 

also when din moves towards the camera and out of sight in this first appearance, the signet is the very last thing that leaves the frame! I just thought that was sweet, a clan of two :’)

- shotout to these two lads and their boldly absolutely inexplicable hat choices (I love gratuitous star wars crowd scenes you guys)

those tacky gold sequins on her sleeves... immaculate, beautiful, someone sat through like full body makeup application to be on screen a literal split second, that good good sw nonsense

- oh I didn’t notice before but I think those gladiator dudes are using vibroaxes! I guess they have the technology to portray it in live action now after the vibroblades in the first season

- the way bb glances up at din like ‘hey dad. dad what the fuck???’ as one gomorrean nearly chops the arm off the other fjaslfds

- when you look for it it’s comically obvious that those guys are working for the dude mando’s meeting, they’ve all got more or less the same dark uniform and don’t look much at the fight haha. they might as well have ‘hired thugs’ stamped upon their foreheads

- I like how pared down and spare the music is in this fight scene, it’s just the faint whine of the electric guitars under the thuds of meat hitting metal 

also still love how din fights, the fact that he doesn’t even try to not get hit a lot of the time, he’s just tanking through it waiting for someone to fling themselves at him in a way he can exploit to take them out

the bouncer seems to be holding something like sci-fi handcuffs when he grabs din and lifts him off his feet, so he probably meant to restrain him quickly. bonus: I didn’t notice it the first time around, but din really went straaaaaiiight for this dude’s gentleman area once he dropped him back on his feet lol (you can even see him taking a split second to orient himself and take aim first fhsdkfhas). good job space cowboy dad, sometimes fighting smart means fighting dirty

- leaving this awful dude hanging upside down to get eaten after employing some very deliberate phrasing so he’s not even breaking his word is the ruthless HEIGHT of mando’s hilarious petty streak and it makes me cackle, gives me life, waters my crops    

- oh, the palpable loneliness and longing in din’s voice when he says ‘if I can track down another of my kind’ ;_______; I’m sorry buddy

- may we speak for a moment about the fact that din carries his son around in what seems very much to be a saddle bag sdafjkhsa

- the way din checks in with peli (to see if she’s fucking with him? he’s very confused anyway haha) over the map before saying “I don’t see anything” is so precious. he already seems much more socially tuned in and responsive compared to the beginning of season 1, you love to see it, coming out of that freeze response baBEY

- I can’t get over how much the baby loves speed, this is coming back to bite you so hard if you’re ever going to have to teach this kid how to drive one day mando

- awwww the little patented mando finger curl as he enters the bar <3<3<3 that’s sort of his tell for being preoccupied/anxious; I think finding other mandos, someone to trust and to get help from, means A Lot to him  

once he sees the marshall in the armour his shoulders drop down and he stands up straighter :’) hope is a powerful thing (I guess all of this might add even more to how angry he is too)

the DEAD STOP when cobb takes the helmet off sdkfhkajsldhfsdk

- yodito putting his lil mouth on the lip of this jar thing is such a well observed little quirk of baby behaviour, I’m crying

(there is liquid of some sort in this thing; I’ve seen some people theorize it’s a spittoon but for my own peace of mind I’m going to forcefully declare that it is not thank you)

- so much stuff packed into that “He’s seen worse”!! dismissal, self-deprecation, sorrow, resignation, warning. 

- the contrast in this standoff of vanth’s eastwood eye twitch and the complete deadpan impassiveness of din’s helmet and general demeanor... wonderful  

- upon rewatching I’m actually wondering if some of these scenes with the baby on his own were filmed independently of the actors and that it might add to that slight distracting feeling of disconnect/distance you get through the episode. (it’s sort of odd to me that mando doesn’t even glance down at him as the whole place starts to shake, for example) there must be a lot of stuff that comes down to technical considerations with the baby; I suspect it takes a lot of time and resources to have him walking around too much, which is why The Waddle is kind of a rare treat   

what I’m saying is that they may be saving up dad & baby interaction resources for episodes where it’s more relevant or important

- so is this a one bantha town or is it just for convenient film language reasons it was all alone in frame like that lol

also cobb’s ‘mondays amirite’ look fdsakjfhsjk 

- since I think it every time I get to this part: this is a very neat hairstyle this person is rocking, suits them! 

- ah the stern pointer finger of emphasis. din TALKS, no, COMMUNICATES so much in this episode you guys!!!!! 

- rip this tusken, the bravest person who ever lived

- the delivery of “...they might be open to some fresh ideas” is the funniest moment of this entire episode don’t @ me

- oh the kotor-ness of it all lol

- jill (the girl who hands cobb the detonator) is so cute with her hat and everything ;____; 

- I suppose these tuskens are really the bravest people to ever live considering they saw what happened to the last guy (or gal I suppose I don’t know how sand people gender works)

- baby needs some goggles to protect his giant eyes from wind and sand Y___Y

- they’ve nailed how to make the jetpacks work in live action, it looks really cool and I suspect it easily could have uh. not 

- this poor sacrificial bantha... it even tried to get away

- ooooh the heart eyes -- cobb 100% has a crush on this man jfsdflhsad. (with it being sort of unrequited/’oh man I’m behind about 150 layers of dissociation too many to even really consider that one way or the other bud’ from mando’s side #personal headcanon disclaimer)    

- my take on why din doesn’t get dissolved in acid in there is that that stuff is released from a specific gland or something that the dragon can unleash at will and that the spit itself doesn’t have that quality on its own (or at least it’s a lot less potent) 

- seems pretty well confirmed by now that yodito is a carnivore huh hahaha

- I find it obscurely satisfying that cobb seems to be wearing exactly his old outfit under the armour -- he did just strap it on on top of what he already was. (there’s something there -- he’s a whole thing still without the armour, and at this time at least din would not be I don’t think) just some good narrative foil stuff going on here under the surface

also once again props to the costume design; without the armour he looks so vulnerable again, they have dressed him to emphasise his height and slenderness (especially compared to mando, who actually seems to have bulked up a bit? fatherhood suits him I guess)    

plus, the way the baby looks questioningly up at din while he watches cobb walk away? yeah, din is lonely, let this poor man have a friend who stays around soon T______________T

- heeey boba, nice threads! my guess is that he’s not going to be there for the armour if he does track din down, since he hasn’t seemed to be in any haste to get it back before (which is interesting!). he might also have been unable to go looking for it before because he was still recovering from being half digested, of course, they could play it a lot of different ways

I wonder if we’ll get more of him in the next ep or if they’ll let the tension ramp up through the season 

[awesomelyanxiouspanda]

I'm a Murderer, Not a Monster (Billy Loomis/OFC/Stu Macher) Part 1

This is a repost since I deleted my old Tumblr!

Summary: 

In this AU, Stu and Billy were never caught or killed. Their plan went off without a hitch, and once it was done, they hung up their knives. On the anniversary of Sidney’s death, they were forced to murder again to protect their cover; Tie up loose ends and save themselves from death row for good. Only problem is that the murders were spur of the moment and they have no alibi. On the fly, they choose a house at random and hope for the best. Which leads us up to now!

Author’s notes:

-I had a dream and it inspired this little thing. In this AU, Stu and Billy were never caught or killed. Their plan went off without a hitch, and once it was done, they hung up their knives. On the anniversary of Sidney’s death, they were forced to murder again to protect their cover; Tie up loose ends and save themselves from death row for good. Only problem is that the murders were spur of the moment and they have no alibi. On the fly, they choose a house at random and hope for the best. Which leads us up to now!

-AU takes place in a weird time convergence. Basically the timeline is made up and the worlds don’t matter.

-I’m a fool for bad boys who are soft just for a few specific people, so Billy and Stu will be a bit OOC here. If that’s not your cup of tea, this is your warning.

-Relevant facts: Billy and Stu are both 19-20ish now. Ginger the OFC is 24 and Poppy is 6.

-Ginger’s appearance is rather general but she is short and chubby because there is not enough plus-size character love in fics.

-I had to split this into two parts. This one is SFW, just cursing and mentions of murder. Part two will be NSFW smut!

~“I’m a murderer, not a monster. I don’t kill kids, and what life would a kid have without their mom, hmm?”~

Billy’s words played over and over in my head while I stood, trembling, at the kitchen counter with my hot coffee mug in hand as I sipped at the sweet caffeine for support. I had to put on a strong front. I know he said he wouldn’t kill us but that wasn’t very comforting when there were two serial killers sitting at the table with my daughter; All three eating pancakes like there wasn’t a care in the world.

“Thanks mama. I’m gonna go brush my teeth for school,” Poppy said, pushing out her chair as she collected her plate.

“Alright sweetie. Don’t forget to wash your face after,” I called to her.

She nodded in agreement as she trotted off, ponytail swinging joyfully behind her.

With her bountiful energy out of the room, I let my shoulders sag and swallowed hard. Fear and uncertainty were tearing up my stomach and making it hard to breathe.

“You can relax, doll. We’re not going to hurt you, and especially not her,” Stu commented, shoving the last bite of his pancakes in his mouth, “We’re not that kind of people.”

I cringed slightly at the way he spoke with his mouth full and gaping, but didn’t dare comment on it. Who would correct a murderer on his table manners?

“I know you said that but it’s just…. I’m terrified honestly. I don’t trust anyone in my home, around my kid, other than family and now there are two strange men staying here,” I explained quietly, keeping my tone as docile as possible.

Billy rose silently from his chair and immediately I tensed up as his dark eyes landed on me. He wasn’t insanely tall like his partner but he was beyond intimidating as he marched over and stood only a few inches from me. Even though he was shorter, he still towered over me and my five foot frame. It suddenly felt like there was a lump in my throat that I just couldn’t swallow past.

“We won’t be in your hair longer than we have to be. As long as you keep your end of the deal, everything will go smoothly. You have my word that we wouldn’t touch a hair on that kids’ head no matter what, but if you were to try to start some shit-”

“I would never!” I cut him off immediately, heart racing and pounding hard at the threat, “Self preservation is my strongest suit next to doing anything to protect her.”

“Good, then he’s right. You can relax. You have nothing to worry about,” Billy finished with a nod.

A little grin came to his face and he raised his hand. Instinctively I flinched but somehow managed not to jerk away entirely. He patted my cheek gently with a little click of his tongue before going back to the table.

“Say, Ginger, you got any scary movies here?” Stu chimed in.

…

A week had come and gone, and then a second until more than a month had gone by. After almost two months of Stu and Billy hanging out off and on in my home, it was as if they weren’t even that infamous killer I’d heard so much about on the news. If I hadn’t woken up to the two of them over my bed in the Ghostface masks with blood soaked cloaks and knives, I might have never believed that they were. They were both so… normal. Although Billy obviously had some brooding and anger issues, he seemed to just be a regular, albeit gorgeous, guy with a chip on his shoulder; And Stu was absolutely adorable, funny, kind, and endearing. Together they made a hilarious duo; Billy’s dry humor and sarcasm pairing perfectly with Stu’s overzealous comedy. I was starting to LIKE having them there; it was a scary though.

They were both also surprisingly respectful of our home, of Poppy and my general distrust of men around her; Ensuring they were never in another room alone with her, even if it was just the kitchen or living room. I appreciated their tact. It was becoming easier to make myself almost believe the cover story they had come up with about us meeting in a bar and them passing out in my house on the night of the murders.

I was still in wonder of just how they had ended up here though. We were about an hour away from Woodsboro and in a decent but not extravagant area. Why us? Why this house?

“What’s wrong, doll? You look down?”

My cheeks heated under the pet name and I quickly tried to push away the butterflies it gave me when mixed with the curious look on Stu’s face. There was no way I could begin to acknowledge my stupid little crush on him without it making me feel weird. Although I’d started to feel friendship or possibly more toward them, there’s was nothing to say that they were doing more than keeping up the pretenses of our deal and ensuring I wouldn’t rat them out. Not to mention, my self-esteem told me that two men who were so beautiful would never be interested in a woman of my size and appearance, much less since I was almost four years older than them.

“No, not down, just thinking,” I explained, passing the popcorn bowl over to him.

He cocked his head to the side in obvious curiosity while he swiped some popcorn from the bowl.

“About?” Billy asked from the recliner across the room.

I shrugged but chose to be honest. I’d learned honesty was certainly the best policy with them.

“Why you came to this town when your hometown is an hour away. Why you chose this place of all places.”

Apparently that threw them both for a loop, Stu’s eyes darting to Billy while the other let mild-surprise run across his face.

“Well, I guess it was just fate. I’m pretty sure anyone else would have fought us by now and we’d have had to kill them. Which would have screwed up the whole plan, of course,” Billy vaguely explained.

I felt my curiosity pique at the mention of a plan and I hesitantly asked, “What is your long term plan?”

“A fresh start. Get away from all that shit that started this whole thing and try to do more with our lives,” Billy replied, eyes drifting back to the movie on the TV.

“It wasn’t like we planned on killing forever. Hell, we made it out for a whole fucking year before someone jeopardized our freedom,” Stu added in, “Had to do what needed to be done to keep people looking away from us though.”

He was obviously waiting for some kind of reply but I wasn’t sure what to say. Instead I gave him a shrug as I mulled over my thoughts.

“I can’t say I agree with, or understand, killing anyone to begin with, obviously, but I wasn’t in your situation either. That said, I CAN understand wanting a fresh start. That’s why Poppy and I moved here too; Away from a past life I no longer wanted a part of,” I responded after a while.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Billy asked.

I hesitantly met his powerful gaze before admitting, “I had to leave our old home for our safety. Let’s just say, there are worse things a person can do than end a life.”

The intensity in the room went up a level and I could almost feel both of them staring at my burning face, but I had already let out more than I wanted to. In this place, in my new world, no one knew of our past. They knew I was a single mom to a happy little girl, and that’s how I wanted to keep it. People’s opinions tended to change when they knew your dirty little secrets.

“Mama, are we still watching Rugrats tonight?” Poppy asked.

Her sudden appearance from the bedroom made me jolt and yelp in surprise. She grinned and stuck her tongue out at me, before clutching her tummy and letting out rolls of deep belly laughter.

“I scared you! I scared you! You scare so easy mommy!”

With a slight eyeroll of embarrassment, I waved away her hysterics before gesturing her over.

“Don’t make fun of me, butthead,” I teased, then added, “But yeah, as soon as Stu and Billy head out we’ll put on Rugrats.”

“Sounds like it’s time to skeedaddle, scoob,” Stu commented in a silly voice, “Gotta let the little princess get her movies in.”

Poppy grinned and nodded.

“Don’t forget, you promised to come back soon and play candyland with us,” Poppy reminded the two before climbing up onto the couch next to me.

“Yeah, yeah, pipsqueak,” Billy commented, unable to hide a little grin before he rose to his feet, “We’ll stop by again soon.”

I got up from the couch and walked them to the door out of habit, waiting until they were down the sidewalk before I shut and locked it.

“Okay, let the Rugrats extravaganza begin!” I cheered, scurrying back to the couch.

Poppy giggled and burrowed against my side eagerly as I flipped the TV over to the correct setting and pushed play. The familiar theme song blared from the TV speakers as the movie started and I settled back on the cushions more. Some parents wouldn’t admit it but I still enjoyed cartoons as much as I had when I was a kid. It was a nice bonding experience too, watching some of the shows I grew up on!

…

As the credits rolled, I shifted slightly and slowly lowered Poppy to the couch. She had fallen asleep about halfway through, as I had expected, but I wanted to finish up the movie anyway; It was one of my favorites!

Patting her shoulder gently, I set about picking up the remnants from the evening visit. Popcorn bowl, kernels, soda cans, and the like all barely fit into my arms so I rushed into the kitchen quickly as not to drop anything and let it down on the counter, sorting rubbish from dishes.

I had just got the sink water started to wash the dinner dishes when there was a loud crash from the garage.

“What the fuck?” I muttered.

I cut the water and dried my hands before shuffling closer to the garage door. Once I was almost a foot away, I heard hushed hisses and curses.

“Oh my god!”

As fast as I could, I flipped the deadbolt and door lock, only to be greeted to the sound of something slamming against the door.

“Oooohhhh ladies! I know you’re in theeerrreee,” a male voice sung teasingly, “Just wait ‘til I get you, you fucking bitch!”

Another slam against the door had me finally moving, eyes watering and chest burning as I held in a panicked scream. Without words I snagged Poppy and my phone up from the couch and sped into my room.

“Mommy?” Poppy groaned sleepily.

“Shh baby. I need you to stay as quiet as possible. Someone’s here. Hide in the nightstand.”

Her eyes instantly cleared up as fear marred her features. There was a sense of wisdom in her movements as she calmly and quietly crawled into the lower part of the bedside table, the cubby hole just barely large enough for her small frame. I turned it so the open side faced the wall and breathed out a sigh of relief. You couldn’t tell it wasn’t meant to be that way, nor that there was an opening on the other side. As long as she was still and silent, he’d most likely never find her.

“Whatever you do, don’t come out or speak unless I tell you to. No matter what. I love you.”

With Poppy tended to, I brought up my cell phone and dialed 911.

“This is 911. What is your emergency?”

“My name is Ginger Wallace. I live on 304 Cedar Knoll. Someone just broke into my house and threatened to kill me and my daughter,” I rushed out, hoping my words were clear enough for the operator.

“You said 304 Cedar Knoll, ma’am?” the woman asked.

“Yes, please, hurry and send someone,” I hissed.

Something slammed into the bedroom door and I jumped back with a scream as the pressed wood flexed under the impact. Hands shaking and heart pounding, I ran over to my desk and looked for anything I could use as a weapon. Another wall-shuddering thud hit the door right before the man spoke again.

“They’ll be too late, bitch. They always are. You wanna know all the things I’m gonna do you to before they get here? And to that little bitch too?!”

At those words, my blood ran cold.

“What’s taking so long?” I spit into the phone when I didn’t hear anything other than keys clacking.

“Okay ma’am, I was able to send out your location. An officer is on the way. Are you in a safe place away from the intruder?” she asked.

“Yes? No? I don’t fucking know. There’s a door between us.”

“Okay, I need you to stay on the line with me. An officer should be there about in twenty minutes.”

The door bowed under the pressure of what sounded like the intruder’s entire body being thrown against it and I felt my strength begin to drain, my knees going weak as I back up and leaned against the wall.

“Twenty minutes?!”

That was too long. Way too fucking long. Without much thought, I hung up the phone and dialed the first number I could think of. The intruders cursing was barely registering in my mind as I prayed for my only hope to answer. They had been renting out a place not too far away and with luck they’d still be awake, and thus the closest help.

“Ginger? It’s late, doll. What’s up?” Stu asked through the phone.

Another slam and cracking wood filled the air, along with a cackle that made me shudder.

“There’s someone in our house,” I whimpered, sliding down to sit on the floor as I felt panic set in hard, “He’s threatening to- to kill us. Are you guys able to-?”

“What?! Fuck, yeah. We’re on the way!”

I whispered a quiet thank you and tried to listen as he rambled something about being at the liquor store, but my attention remained on the crack slowly spreading down the door. I had to do something, but what?

“Hey! Ginger! Listen to me, sweetheart. Are you in a seperate room from him?”

Billy’s calming voice came through the haze like a beacon, and I quickly answered him that we were in my bedroom.

“Okay, good. I want you to barricade the door with whatever you have. Dressers, bed, whatever. Just keep him out until we get there. We’re less thab ten minutes away.”

I nodded, then realized with a frustrated sigh that he couldn’t hear that.

“Okay,” I finally murmured.

Climbing to my feet, I managed to pin the phone between my shoulder and ear and push the dresser at the same time. It wasn’t super heavy, but it was something. Next I maneuvered my vanity over. I barely had released it when the man slammed into the door again with a frustrated growl, tearing a startled scream from me as I stumbled back onto the floor.

“Do you have a weapon?” Billy asked suddenly.

“No,” I whispered.

“Is Poppy safe?” came the next question.

“Yes. He won’t be able to find her now,” I replied lowly.

“Okay, okay good. That’s good. We’re almost there.”

I heard a car horn honk from his side of the line and Stu swearing frantically, but then I stopped listening as recognition washed over me. The intruder was quiet, had been for a good minute or two.

As if my thoughts provoked his actions, suddenly the door was rammed again. The crack splintered farther down and I could swear there was light peeking through now.

“If you open up now, I promise to make the brat only watch! Hmm? How does that sound? Would you open up to save her?”

The guy sounded winded or hurt or something, but his threat was still bone-chilling nonetheless. I knew I stood no real chance against him weaponless. A terrified whine escaped before I could stop it and I felt my stomach lurch in disgust.

“We’re here! Right outside, Ginger. Don’t come out, okay?” Billy snapped sharply.

“O-Okay,” I whispered.

A door slammed in the other room and I heard the intruder let out a cry of shock before all three men were yelling. I couldn’t help but hide my head in my arms, unable to stand the sensory overload of the screaming onto top of all the other shit going through my mind. When a cry of pain sounded, my heart nearly stopped. I jumped to my feet when Stu yelled out for Billy, and nearly tore the furniture from the door to investigate the cause, but then came a loud thud; like a body hitting the floor.

I couldn’t make out what was being said at first, but then I heard my name.

“We got him! It’s okay now.”

With a strength I didn’t know I possessed, I shoved away the dresser and vanity as fast as possible and tore the door open, just to be greeted with the sight of Billy and Stu holding down a large man. A glint in the dark drew my attention to the blade at his throat, but my attention was quickly moved to the blood dripping from Billy’s nose.

Fuck. He’d gotten hurt trying to help me. A wave of guilt crashed over me, calmed only slightly when he spoke up.

“I should gut you here and now, you fuckwad,” Billy growled, “Slice you open and let you watch your intestines bleed out like a butchered pig.”

“Yeah! Teach you a lesson about messing with what isn’t yours!” Stu hissed, a terrifying look of glee on his bright eyes.

“No! Don’t kill him! No killing please.”

My shouts echoed across the room, over the man’s pained cries and the heavy grunts of Stu and Billy, and thankfully they both seemed to listen. On shaking legs, I slowly made my way over to them. The assailant was still stupidly struggling under the guys, but they gave him no quarter.

“Let’s do this the right way, okay? Remember, new start,” I whispered, carefully reaching out.

Billy tilted his head back, obviously weighing the options, before be nodded once. I couldn’t help but cringe as the blood dribbled down from his nose.

Damn that asshole for causing all of this mayhem!

“New start,” Billy agreed finally.

Hesitantly I rested a hand on their backs in a grateful manner, to which Stu surprisingly seemed to relish in.

I let out a yelp of fear as Billy reached out and suddenly slammed the man’s face into the floor, effectively knocking him out and silencing him immediately. Stu let out a snort then leaned lightly against my leg, his weight and warmth a welcome support in return, as Billy tied the man’s hands behind his back.

I let out a sigh of relief as we finally heard sirens approaching.

“Where’s Poppy?” Stu demanded suddenly, rising to his feet with an expression kin to fear on his face.

Billy swore harshly and growled out, “Did he hurt her before?!”

“No, no, she’s okay,” I reassured him quickly, “We hid before he got to us.”

Both men went limp in obvious relief as I called for her to come out. I heard nightstand scrape on the ground before she rushed out, barreling straight into my legs. I wasted no time hugging her back. After a few moments, she threw herself at the Stu. He brought her up in a bear hug, tossing a questioning look in my direction, to which I could only shrug. Why would I deny her comfort after what we’d just experienced? She clung to him like her life depended on it.

“We’re safe now, baby,” I murmured to her, reaching out and rubbing her back.

Her curls bobbed as she nodded in understanding. As she began to pull back, she instantly reached out for Billy, who was much more hesitant about holding her.

“Thank you. Thank you for saving us,” Poppy muttered into his shoulder.

“Of course,” was all he said eyes wide and glued to mine.

It was painfully obvious that he felt awkward and unsure of the familial affection, and I wanted to help somehow but wasn’t sure how. Stu shifted closer and wordlessly wrapped an arm around my shoulder, copying the motion on Billy, drawing us in. Poppy let out a little hiccup and a weak whimper as she fit snugly between the three of us. Feeling less awkward and even more grateful to them, I let my guard down and gave into my baser emotions; the dam breaking with the first tears that slipped out.

“Oh doll,” Stu muttered, squeezing me tighter when a little sniffle escaped my hold.

Eyes burning and chest aching with so many hectic emotions, I wrapped an arm around both their waists and held them tight; soaking up the feeling of complete and utter safety. As I rested my face against Stu’s chest, the tears flowed freely.

“You’re okay now,” Billy added after a few moments, “We’re not gonna let anyone hurt you.”

The sincerity in his tone took some of the ache away. I carefully drew from Stu and turned to face Billy, letting a frown curve at my lips.

“But you got hurt,” I murmured.

He looked surprised for a second before simply shrugging.

“This is nothing. I’d take worse if it’s what I had to do to make sure you guys weren’t hurt,” he replied.

Blushing, I swallowed hard and tentatively reached out, taking the hand that wasn’t holding up Poppy.

“Thank you. Let me go get a napkin and some ice for your nose.”

[ragdollrory]

Kyalin drabbles

Three drabbles from creativity (afternoon) night at the Kyalin Discord server. I hope you all enjoy!

~ Chopsticks

“Kya, what are you doing?” Lin had just entered their home, armor already removed and put away in the closet by the door, when she found her wife standing half-hidden in the hallway leading to the living room.

“Shhh,” Kya both slapped her quiet, and called her over to get closer. “Look at her.” She whispered.

Lin peaked from behind her wife, to spot their girl kneeling on the floor by the coffee table, brows furrowed in that fierce concentration look she got that reminded Lin so much of Toph it ached. “What is she doing?” She breathed at Kya’s neck, taking advantage of their quiet game to fill her wife’s neck with little bites she could not escape from.

Kya didn’t have to respond though, because not a second later, Anashi was picking a pair of chopsticks up, and attempting to eat from her lunch bowl. It had to be the cutest struggle Lin had seen in forever. She couldn’t recall a single thing that was as heartwarming as watching their little girl battle a couple of sticks.

Anashi’s tongue peaked out of her lips, frustration reaching a whole new level once she managed to get the chopsticks in the right position, and was now trying to get the gyoza to stay trapped between them on the way to her mouth. Lin could feel Kya’s excitement where her hands rested on her wife’s waist, and she found herself holding her breath to see the outcome.

The gyoza fell, and Anashi’s face morphed into one Lin was very familiar with. A moment later, there was a wooden stick stabbing the piece of food right in the middle. Anashi chew on it with annoyance, little huffs leaving her nose as she did so.

Kya shook her head with an amused smile, giving Lin a questioning look over which of them should go help their girl. Lin gladly took the opportunity.

“Look mommy!” Anashi called happily a couple of minutes later when Kya returned to the living room with Lin’s lunch. There was a gyoza trapped between the chopsticks, although they weren’t wood anymore, but metal. Lin winked up at her wife, who leaned to place a kiss on both their foreheads. It was a happy meal.

~ Winter/handcuffs

“Lin, come on, you can’t be serious.” Kya whined, not for the first time that night. Not even for the first time that hour, and by the looks of it, there would be at least another complain by the end of that very minute. “Can you please, please take them off?” There it was, with a pout and all.

A pout, and big pleading eyes that would’ve gotten her places at any other time, but not now. No. Right now Lin had reached her patient limit, and Kya had been the one to take the burn of it, because she- well, because she was being her usual self, and trying to get Lin into some less than decent activities while on working hours.

“I am being dead serious, Kya.” Lin kept her face poised. Much as she really was on the verge of a burnout, the image Kya painted handcuffed and slouching on the bunk inside the cell, was hilarious. It served her right, for trying to get away with everything just because she was dating a Detective. “Now I need paperwork to finish if I don’t want the Chief to kick my ass, so you stay there until your time is served, and I’ll come pick you up later to go home.”

Lin turned on her heel, leaving a very confused looking Kya behind. “But- but, Lin! It’s cold in here! Can’t you at least lend me your jacket?” She called just as Lin reached holding’s entrance. Lin turned, an eyebrow raised at her girlfriend.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find a way to warm up just fine, Kya. Weren’t you full of ideas when you came in earlier?” She chuckled, and hurried back to her desk. It wouldn’t do to leave Kya alone in a cell for long, after all, she was Katara’s daughter.

~ Tea

If anyone asked Kya what her ideal profession was, she would definitely answer to be a doctor. What with the depth the bags under her eyes sported as of late, and the way her thermos was constantly full of coffee instead of her preferred tea, as finals pushed everyone to their limits, she hoped there was no mistake in that.

Now, if someone were to ask Kya what she’d do if she could pick anything else- be it a side occupation, a hobby, however you wanted to call it- she’d answer she wanted a tea shop.

It had been one of her favorite day dreams of all times, ever since she could recall, and ever since she stepped into one at the age of five, and the aromas, smells, and the quaintness of the place got deeply rooted into her heart.

A tea shop was Kya’s place in the world, the one she’d go whenever she needed to unwind, and clear her mind. And there was a new one near campus where not only she could prepare her own blends at gusto, but where this girl worked…

The girl was Kya’s third dream, and boy in was a beautiful one.

Everything from the emerald of her eyes, to the jet-black hair, and the sharp cut of her high cheekbones was perfection. The way she always dressed so drastically different from the place she worked at, black jeans, white tank tops, and combat boots clashing so hard yet perfectly with the pastel pinks and yellows of the shop. There were always a million leather bracelets and ties on her wrists, giving Kya the perfect excuse to stare at her toned arms for a moment longer than appropriate. Because God her, arms couldn’t possibly be so sinfully defined.

It was a lovely dream, but one Kya had not yet felt confident approaching other than to pay for her blend once she’d prepared it. But soon, she promised to herself as she walked into her next exam.

Once all of this was over, and she had five minutes to spare, Kya would march up to the gorgeous girl in the tea shop, and ask her out.